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“ There's nothing about bread-bags in the articles of war,” replied Jack.— Page 78, 

— Midshipman Easy. 





















i-:l 













MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


^ruudss i.1 cJix, 

By CAPTAIN MARRYAT 

^ h »» 


Author of “MASTERMAN READY,” “THE PHAN- 
TOM SHIP,” “THE PRIVATEERSMAN,” “THE 
SEA KING,” “THE KING’S OWN,’’ etc., etc. Ng 


V 



“ Sails of silk and ropes ot sendal, 
Such as gleam in ancient lore ; 
And singing of the sailors, 

And the answer from the shore.” 


A. L. BURT COMPANY, * * * * * 
j. * * * PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 








/■ 


\ 


n 



Mr. Midshipman Easy. 


CHAPTER I. 

WHICH THE READER WILL FLND VERY EASY TO READ. 

Mr. Nicodemus Easy was a gentleman who lived down 
in Hampshire; he was a married man, and in very easy 
circumstances. Most couples find it very easy to have a 
family, but not always quite so easy to maintain them. 
Mr. Easy was not at all uneasy on the latter score, as he 
had no children; but he was anxious to have them, as most 
people covet what they cannot obtain. After ten years, 
Mr. Easy gave it up as a bad job. Philosophy is said to 
console a man under disappointment, although Shakespeare 
asserts that it is no remedy for toothache; so Mr. Easy 
turned philosopher, the very best profession a man can 
take up, when he is fit for nothing else; he must be a very 
incapable person indeed who cannot talk nonsense. For 
some time Mr. Easy could not decide upon what descrip- 
tion his nonsense should consist of; at last he fixed upon 
the rights of man, equality, and all that; how every per- 
son was born to inherit his share of earth, a right at pres- 
ent only admitted to a certain length; that is, about six 
feet, for we all inherit our graves, and are allowed to take 

S ossession without dispute. But no one would listen to 
[r. Easy’s philosophy. The Women would not acknowl- 
edge the rights of men, whom they declared always to be 
in the wrong; and, as the gentlemen who visited Mr. 
Easy were all men of property, they could not perceive 
the advantages of sharing with those who had none. 
However, they allowed him to discuss the question, while 
they discussed his port wine. The wine was good if the 
arguments were not, and we must take things as we find 
them in this world. 


2 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


While Mr. Easy talked philosophy Mrs. Easy played 
patience, and they were a very happy couple, riding side 
by side on their hobbies, and never interfering with each 
other. Mr. Easy knew his wife could not understand 
him, and therefore did not expect her to listen very atten- 
tively ; and Mrs. Easv did not care how much her husband 
talked, provided she was not put out in her game. Mu- 
tual forbearance will always insure domestic felicity. 

There was another cause for their agreeing so welL 
Upon any disputed question Mr. Easy invariably gave it 
up to Mrs. Easy, telling her that she should have her own 
wa y — an d this pleased his wife; but, as Mr. Easy always 
took care, when it came to the point, to have his way, he 
was pleased as well. It is true that Mrs. Easy had long 
found out that she did not have her own way long; but 
she was of an easy disposition, and' as, in nine cases out of 
ten, it was of very little consequence how things were 
done, she was quite satisfied with his submission during 
the heat of the argument. Mr. Easy had admitted that 
she was right, and if like all men he would do wrong, 
why, what could a poor woman do? With a lady of such 
a quiet disposition, it is easy to imagine that the domestic 
felicity of Mr. Easy was not easily disturbed. But, as 
people have observed before, there is a mutability in 
human affairs. It was at the finale of the eleventh year of 
their marriage that Mrs. Easy at first complained that she 
could not enjoy her breakfast. Mrs. Easy had her own 
suspicions, everybody else considered it past doubt, all 
except Mr. Easy; he little “thought, good easy man, that 
his greatness was ripening;” he had decided that to have 
an heir was no easy task, and it never came into his cal- 
culations that there could be a change in his wife’s figure. 
You might have added to it, subtracted from it, divided 
it, or multiplied it, but as it was a zero, the result would 
always be the same. Mrs. Easy also was not quite sure— 
she believed it might be the case, there was no saying; it 
might be a mistake, like that of Mrs. Trunnion’s in the 
novel, and, therefore, she said nothing to her husband 
about the matter. At last Mr. Easy opened his eyes, and 
when, upon interrogating his wife, he found out the as- 
tounding truth, he opened his eyes still wider, and then 
he snapped his fingers, and danced, like a bear upon hot 
plates, with delight, thereby proving that different causes 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


may produce similar effects in two instances at one and 
the same time. The hear dances from pain, Mr. Easy 
from pleasure; and again, when we are indifferent, or do 
not care for anything, we snap our fingers at it, and when 
we are overjoyed, and obtain what we most care for, we 
also snap our fingers. Two months after Mr. Easy 
snapped his fingers, Mrs. Easy felt no inclination to snap 
hers, either from indifference or pleasure. The fact was, 
that Mrs. Easy’s time was come to undergo what Shakes- 
peare pronounces “the pleasing punishment that women 
bear;” but Mrs. Easy, like the rest of her sex, declared 
that “all men were liars,” and most particularly poets. 

But while Mrs. Easy was suffering, Mr. Easy was in 
ecstasies. He laughed at pain, as all philosophers do 
when it is suffered by other people, and not by them- 
selves. 

In due course of time, Mrs. Easy presented her husband 
with a fine boy, whom we must present to the public as 
our hero. 


CHAPTEB II. 

IM WHICH MRS. EASY, AS USUAL, HAS HER OWN WAY. 

It was the fourth day after Mrs. Easy’s confinement that 
Mr. Easy, who was siting by her bedside in an easy-chair, 
commenced as follows: “I have been thinking, my dear 
Mrs. Easy, about the name I shall give this child.” 

“Name, Mr. Easy! why, what name should you give it 
but your own?” 

“Not, so, my dear,” replied Mr. Easy; “they call all 
names proper names, but I think that mine is not. It 
is the very worst name in the calendar.” 

“Why, what’s the matter with it, Mr. Easy?” 

“The matter affects me as well as the boy. Nicodemus 
is a long name to write at full length, and Nick is vulgar. 
Besides, as there will be two Nicks, they will naturally 
call my boy young Nick, and of course I shall be styled 
old Nick, which will be diabolical.” 


4 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“ Well, Mr. Easy, at all events, then, let me choose the 
name.” 

“That yon shall, my dear, and it was with this view 
that I have mentioned the subject so early.” 

“I think, Mr. Easy, I will call the boy after my poor 
father — his name shall be Robert. ’ ’ 

“Very well, my dear, if you wish it, it shall be Robert. 
You shall have your own way. But I think, my dear, 
upon a little consideration, you will acknowledge that 
there is a decided objection.” 

“An objection, Mr. Easy?” 

“Yes, my dear; Robert may be very well, but you must 
.reflect upon the consequences; he is certain to be called 
Bob.” 

“Well, my dear, and suppose they do call him Bob?” 

“I cannot bear even the supposition, my dear. You 
forget the county in which we are residing, the downs 
covered with sheep.” 

“Why, Mr. Easy, what have sheep to do with a Chris- 
tian name?” 

“There it is; women never look to consequences. My 
dear, they have a great deal to do with the name of Bob. 
I will appeal to any farmer in the county, if ninety-nine 
shepherds’ dogs out of one hundred are not called Bob. 
Now observe, your child is out of doors somewhere in the 
fields or plantations; you want and you call him. In- 
stead of your child, what do you find? Why, a dozen 
curs at least who come running up to you, all answering 
to the name of Bob, and wagging their stumps of tails. 
You see, Mrs. Easy, it is a dilemma not to be got over. 
You level your only son to the brute creation by giving 
him a Christian name which, from its peculiar brevity, 
has been monopolized by all the dogs of the county. Any 
other name you please, my dear; but in this one instance 
you must allow me to lay my positive veto.” 

“Well, then, let me see— but IT1 think of it, Mr. Easy; 
my head aches very much just now.” 

“I will think for you, my dear. What do you say to 
John?” 

“Oh, no, Mr. Easy, such a common name!” 

“A proof of its popularity, my dear. It is scriptural — 
we have the apostle and the baptist — we have a dozen popes 
who were all Johns. It is royal — we have plenty of kings 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


5 


who were Johns — and, moreover, it is short, and sounds 
honest and manly.” 

“Yes, very true, my dear; but they will call him Jack.” 

“Well, we have had several celebrated characters who 
were Jacks. There was — let me see — Jack the Giant 
Killer, and Jack of the Bean Stalk — and Jack — Jack ” 

“Jack Spratt,” replied Mrs. Easy. 

“And Jack Cade, Mrs. Easy, the great rebel — and 
Three-fingered Jack, Mrs. Easy, the celebrated negro — 
and, above all, Jack Ealstaff, ma’am, Jack Falstafi — 
honest Jack Falstaff — witty Jack Falstafi ” 

“I thought, Mr. Easy, I was to be permitted to choose 
the name?” 

“Well, so you shall, my dear; I give it up to you. Do 
just as you please; but depend upon it that John is the 
right name. Is it not, now, my dear?” 

“It’s the way you always treat me, Mr. Easy; you say 
that you give it up, and that I shall have my own way, 
but I never do have it. I am sure that the child will be 
christened John.” 

“Kay, my dear, it shall be just what you please. Now 
I recollect it, there were several Greek emperors who 
were Johns; but decide for yourself, my dear.” 

“No, no,” replied Mrs. Easy, who was ill, and unable 
to contend any longer, “I give it up, Mr. Easy. I know 
how it will be, as it always is ; you give me my own way 
as people give pieces of gold to children ; it’s their own 

money, but they must not spend it. Pray call him 

John.” 

“There, my dear, did I not tell you, you would be ol 
my opinion upon reflection? I knew you would- I have 
given you your own way, and you tell me to call him 

John; so now we’re both of the same mind, and that 

point is settled.” 

“I should like to go to sleep, Mr. Easy; I feel far from 
well.” 

“You shall always do just as you like, my dear,” re- 
plied the husband, “and have your own way in every- 
thing. It is the greatest pleasure I have when I yield to 
your wishes. I will walk in the garden. Good-by, my 
dear.” 

Mrs. Easy made no reply, and the philosopher quitted 
the room. As may be easily imagined, on the following 
day the boy was christened John. 


6 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


CHAPTER III. 

Ilf WHICH OUR HERO HAS TO WAIT THE ISSUE OF AH 
ARGUMENT. 

The reader may observe that, in general, all my first ( 
chapters are very short, and increase in length as the 
work advances. I mention this as a proof of my modesty 
and diffidence. At first, I am like a young bird just out 
of its mother’s nest, pluming my little feathers and tak- 
ing short flights. By degrees, I obtain more confidence, 
and wing my course over hill and dale. 

It is very difficult to throw any interest into a chapter 
on childhood. There is the same uniformity in all chil- 
dren until they develop. We cannot, therefore, say much 
relative to Jack Easy’s earliest days; he sucked and threw 
up his milk, while the nurse blessed it for a pretty dear, 
slept, and sucked again. He crowed in the morning like 
a cock, screamed when he was washed, stared at the can- 
dle, and made wry faces with the wind. Six months 
passed in these innocent amusements, and then he was 
put into shorts. But I ought here to have remarked that 
Mrs. Easy did not find herself equal to nursing her own 
infant, and it was necessary to look out for a substitute. 

Now a commonplace person would have been satisfied 
with the recommendation of the medical man, who looks 
but to the one thing needful, which is a sufficient and 
wholesome supply of nourishment for the child; but Mr. 
Easy was a philosopher, and had latterly taken to crani- 
ology, and he descanted very learnedly with the doctor 
upon the effect of his only son obtaining his nutriment 
from an unknown source. 4 ‘Who knows,” observed Mr. 
Easy, “but that my son may not imbibe with his milk the 
very worst passions of human nature?” 

“I have examined her,” replied the doctor, “and can 
safely recommend her.” 

“That examination is only preliminary to one mora 
important,” replied Mr. Easy. “I must examine her.” 

“Examine who, Mr. Easy?” exclaimed his wife, who 
had lain down again on the bed. 

“The nurse, my dear.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


7 


“Examine what, Mr. Easy?” continued the lady. 

“Her head, my dear,” replied the husband. “I must 
ascertain what her propensities are.” 

“I think you had better leave her alone, Mr. Easy. She 
comes this evening, and I shall question her pretty se- 
verely. Dr. Middleton, what do you know of this young 
person?” 

“I know, madam, that she is very healthy and strong, 
or I should not have selected her.” 

“But is her character good?” 

“Really, madam, I know little about her character ; but 
you can make any inquiries you please. But at the same 
time I ought to observe that if you are too particular in 
that point, you will have some difficulty in providing 
yourself.” 

“Well, I shall see,” replied Mrs. Easy. 

“And I shall feel,” rejoined her husband. 

This parleying was interrupted by the arrival of the 
very person in question, who was announced by the house- 
maid, and was ushered in. She was a handsome, florid, 
healthy-looking girl, awkward and naive in her manner, 
and apparently not over wise ; there was more of the dove 
than of the serpent in her composition. 

Mr. Easy, who was very anxious to make his own dis- 
coveries, was the first who spoke. “Young woman, come 
this way; I wish to examine your head.” 

“Oh! dear me, sir, it’s quite clean, I assure you,” cried 
the girl, dropping a courtesy. 

Dr. Middleton, who sat between the bed and Mr. Easy’s 
chair, rubbed his hands and laughed. 

In the mean time, Mr. Easy had untied the string and 
taken off the cap of the young woman, and was very busy 
putting his fingers through her hair, during which the 
face of the young woman expressed fear and astonish- 
ment. 

“I am glad to perceive that you have a large portion of 
benevolence.” 

“Yes,” replied the young woman, dropping a courtesy. 

“And veneration also.” 

“Thanky, sir.” 

“And the organ of modesty is strongly developed.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the girl with a smile. 

“That’s quite a new organ,” thought Dr. Middleton. 


8 


Mtt. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“Philoprogenitiveness very powerful. ” 

“If you please, sir, I don’t know what that is,” an- 
swered Sarah, with a courtesy. 

“Nevertheless you have given us a practial illustration. 
Mrs. Easy, I am satisfied. Have you any questions to 
ask? But it is quite unnecessary.” 

“To be sure I have, Mr. Easy. Pray, young woman, 
what is your name?” 

“Sarah, if you please, ma’am.” 

“How long have you been married?” 

“Married, ma’am?” 

“Yes, married.” 

“If you please, ma’am, I had a misfortune, ma’am,” 
replied the girl, casting down her eyes. 

“What, have you not been married?” 

“No, ma’am, not yet.” 

“Good heavens! Dr. Middleton, what can you mean by 
bringing this person here?” exclaimed Mrs. Easy. “Not 
a married woman, and she has a child!” 

“If you please, ma’am,” interrupted the young woman, 
dropping a courtesy, “it was a very little one.” 

“A very little one!” exclaimed Mrs. Easy. 

“Yes, ma’am, very small indeed, and died soon after it 
was born.” 

“Oh, Dr. Middleton! — what could you mean, Dr. Mid- 
dleton?” 

“My dear madam,” exclaimed the doctor, rising from 
his chair, “this is the only person that I could find suited 
to the wants of your child, and if you do not take her, I 
cannot answer for its life. It is true that a married 
woman might be procured ; but married women who have 
a proper feeling will not desert their own children; and, 
as Mr. Easy asserts, and you appear to imagine, the tem- 
per and disposition of your child may be affected by the 
nourishment it receives, I think it more likely to be in- 
jured by the milk of a married woman who will desert her 
own child for the sake of gain. The misfortune which 
has happened to this young woman is not always a proof of 
a bad heart, hut of strong attachment, and the overween- 
ing confidence of simplicity.” 

“You are correct, doctor,” replied Mr. Easy, “and her 
head proves that she is a modest young woman, with 
strong religious feeling, kindness of disposition, and every 
Other requisite.” 


Mr. midshipman easy. 


9 

“The head may prove it all for what I know, Mr. Easy, 
but her ccmduct tells another tale.” 

“She is well fitted for the situation, ma’am,” continued 
the doctor. % 

“And if you please, ma’am,” rejoined Sarah, “it was 
such a little one” 

“Shall I try the baby, ma’am?” said the monthly nurse, 
.who had listened in silence. “It is fretting so, poor 
thing, and has its dear little fist right down its throat.” 

Dr. Middleton gave the signal of assent, and in a few 
seconds Master J ohn Easy was fixed to Sarah as tight as a 
leech. 

“Lord love it, how hungry it is! — there, there, stop it 
a moment, it’s choking, poor thing!” 

Mrs. Easy, who was lying on her bed, rose up, and went 
to the child. Her first feeling was that of envy that 
another should have such a pleasure which was denied to 
herself, the next that of delight at the satisfaction ex- 
pressed by the infant. In a few minutes the child fell 
back in a deep sleep. Mrs. Easy was satisfied; maternal 
feelings conquered all others, and Sarah was duly in- 
stalled. 

To make short work of it, we have said that Jack Easy 
in six months was in shorts. He soon afterward began to 
crawl and show his legs; indeed, so indecorously, that it 
was evident that he had imbibed no modesty with Sarah’s 
milk, neither did he appear to have gained veneration or 
benevolence, for he snatched at everything, squeezed the 
kitten to death, scratched his mother, and pulled his 
father by the hair; notwithstanding all which, both his 
father and mother and the whole household declared him 
to be the finest and sweetest child in the universe. But 
if we were to narrate all the wonderful events of Jack’s 
childhood from the time of his birth up to the age of 
seven years, as chronicled by Sarah, who continued his 
dry nurse after he had been weaned, it would take at least 
three volumes folio. Jack was brought up in the way 
that every only child usually is — that is, he was allowed 
to have his own way. 


10 


MB. MW S111P MAN EASY. 


CHAPTER IV. 

IN’ WHICH THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES GOING TO SCHOOL 
AS A REMEDY FOR A CUT FINGER. 

“Have you no idea of putting the boy to school, Mrs. 
Easy?” said Hr. Middleton, who had been summoned by 
a groom with his horse in a foam to attend immediately 
at Forest Hill, the name of Mr. Easy’s mansion, and 
who, upon his arrival, had found that Master Easy had 
cut his thumb. One would have thought that he had cut 
his head oJf by the agitation pervading the whole house- 
hold — Mr. Easy walking up and down very uneasy, Mrs. 
Easy with great difficulty prevented from syncope, and all 
the maids bustling and passing round Mrs. Easy’s chair. 
Everybody appeared excited except Master Jack Easy 
himself, who, with a rag round his finger, and his pina- 
fore spotted with blood, was playing at bob-cherry, and 
cared nothing about the matter. 

“Well, what’s the matter, my little man?” said Hr. 
Middleton on entering, addressing himself to Jack, as the 
most sensible of the whole party. 

“Oh, Hr. Middleton,” interrupted Mrs. Easy, “he has 
cut his hand! I’m sure that a nerve is divided, and the 
the lockjaw ” 

The doctor made no reply, but examined the finger : 
Jack Easy continued to play bob-cherry with his right 
hand. 

“Have you such a thing as a piece of sticking-plaster 
in the house, madam?” observed the doctor, after exam- 
ination. 

“Oh, yes !— run, Mary— run, Sarah !” In a few seconds 
the maids appeared, Sarah bringing the sticking-plaster, 
and Mary following with the scissors. 

“Make yourself quite easy, madam,” said Hr. Middle- 
ton, after he put on the plaster, “I will answer for no 
evil consequences.” 

“Had I not better take him upstairs, and let him lie 
down a little?” replied Mrs. Easy, slipping a guinea into 
the doctor’s hand. ^ 

“It is not absolutely requisite, madam,” said the doc* 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


11 


tor; “but at all events he will be kept out of more mis- 
chief.” 

“Come, my dear, you hear ^hat Dr. Middleton says.” 

“Yes, I heard,” replied Jack; “but I shan’t go.” 

“My dear Johnny — come, love — now do, my dear 
Johnny.” 

J ohnny played bob-cherry, and made no answer. 

“Come, Master Johnny,” said Sarah. 

“Co away, Sarah,” said Johnny, with a back-hander. 

“Oh! fie, Master Johnny,” said Mary. 

“Johnny, my love,” said Mrs. Easy in a coaxing tone, 
“come now — will you go?” 

“I’ll go in the garden and get some more cherries,” 
repled Master Johnny. 

“Come, then, love, we will go into the garden.” 

Master Johnny jumped ofi his chair, and took his 
mamma by the hand. 

“What a dear, good, obedient child it is!” exclaimed 
Mrs. Easy: “you may lead him with a thread.” 

“Yes, to pick cherries,” thought Dr. Middleton. 

Mrs. Easy, and Johnny, and Sarah, and Mary went 
into the garden, leaving Dr. Middleton alone with Mr. 
Easy, who had been silent during this scene. Now Dr. 
Middleton was a clever, sensible man, who had no wish 
to impose upon any one. As for his taking a guinea for 
putting on a piece of sticking-plaster, his conscience was 
very easy on that score. His time was equally valuable, 
whether he were employed for something or nothing; and 
moreover he attended the poor gratis. Constantly in the 
house, he had seen much of Mr. John Easy, and perceived 
that he was a courageous, decided boy, of a naturally 
good disposition; but from the idiosyncrasy of the father 
and the doting folly of the mother, in a sure way of being 
spoiled. As soon, therefore, as the lady was out of hear- 
ing he took a chair, and made the query at the commence- 
ment of the chapter, which we shall now repeat. 

“Have you no idea of putting the boy to school, Mr. 
Easy?” 

Mr. Easy crossed his legs, and clasped his hands to- 
gether over his knees, as he always did when he was about 
to commence an argument. 

“The great objection that I have to sending a boy to 
school, Dr. Middleton, is that 1 conceive that the disci- 


12 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


pline enforced is not only contrary to the rights of man, 
but also in opposition to all sound sense and common 
judgment. Not content with punishment, which is in 
itself erroneous and an infringement of social justice, 
they even degrade the minds of the hoys still more by 
applying punishment to the most degraded part, adding 
contumely to tyranny. Of course, it is intended that a 
boy who * is sent to school should gain by precept and ex- 
ample; but is he to learn benevolence by the angry look 
and the flourish of the vindictive birch — or forbearance 
by the cruelty of the ushers — or patience, when the mas- 
ters over him are out of all patience — or modesty, when 
his nether parts are exposed to general examination? Is 
he not daily reading a lesson at variance with that equal- 
ity which we all possess, but of which we are unjustly 
deprived? Why should there be a distinction between 
the flogger and the floggee? Are they not both fashioned 
alike after God’s image, endowed with the same reason, 
having an equal right to what the world offers, and which 
was intended by Providence to be equally distributed? 
Is it not that the sacred inheritance of all, which has 
tyrannously and impiously been ravished from the many 
for the benefit of the few, and which ravishment, from 
long custom of iniquity and inculcation of false precepts, 
has too long been basely submitted to? Is it not the duty 
of a father to preserve his only son from imbibing these 
dangerous and debasing errors, which will render him 
only one of a vile herd who are content to suffer, provided 
that they live? And yet are not these very errors incul- 
cated at school, and impressed upon their mind inversely 
by the birch? Do not they there receive their first lesson 
in slavery with the first lesson in A B C ; and are not 
their minds thereby prostrated, so as never to rise again, 
but ever bow to despotism ; to cringe to rank, to think 
and act by the precepts of others, and to tacitly disavow 
that sacred equality which is our birthright? No, sir, 
without they can teach, without resorting to such a fun- 
damental error as flogging, my hoy shall never go to 
school.” 

And Mr. Easy threw himself back in his chair, imagin- 
ing, like all philosophers, that he had said something very 
clever. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


IB 


Dr. Middleton knew his man, and therefore patiently 
waited until he had exhausted his oratory. 

“I will grant,” said the doctor at last, “that all you say 
may have great truth in it; but, Mr. Easy, do you not 
think that by not permitting a boy to be educated, you 
allow him to remain more open to that very error of which 
you speak? It is only education which will conquer prej- 
udice, and enable a man to break through the trammels 
of custom. Now, allowing that the birch is used, yet it 
is at a period when the young mind is so elastic as to soon 
become indifferent; and after he has attained the usual 
rudiments of education, you will then find him prepared 
to receive those lessons which you can yourself instil.” 

“I will teach him everything myself,” replied Mr. 
Easy, folding his arms consequentially and determinedly. 

“I do not doubt your capability, Mr. Easy; but unfor- 
tunately you will always have a difficulty which you never 
can get over. Excuse me, I know what you are capable 
of, and the boy would indeed be happy with such a pre- 
ceptor; but — if I must speak plain — you must be aware as, 
well as I am, that the maternal fondness of Mrs. Easy will 
always be a bar to your intention. He is already so 
spoiled by her that he will not obey; and without obedi- 
ence you cann#t inculcate.” 

“I grant, my dear sir, that there is a difficulty on that 
point; but maternal weakness must be overcome by 
paternal severity.” 

“May I ask how, Mr. Easy? for it appears to me im- 
possible.” 

“Impossible! By heavens, I’ll make him obey, or 

Fli ” Here Mr. Easy stopped before the word flog was 

fairly out of his mouth — “Fll know the reason why, Dr. 
Middleton.” 

Dr. Middleton checked his inclination to laugh, and 
replied, “That you would hit upon some scheme, by 
which you would obtain the necessary power over him, I 
have no doubt; but what will be the consequence? The 
boy will consider his mother as a protector, and you as a 
tyrant. He will have an aversion to you, and with that- 
aversion he will never pay respect and attention to your 
valuable precepts when he arrives at an age to understand 
them. Now it appears to me that this difficulty which 
you have raised may be got over. I know a very worthy 


14 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


clergyman who does not nse the birch ; but I will write 
and put the direct question to him, and then if your boy 
is removed from the danger arising from Mrs. Easy’s over- 
indulgence, in a short time he will be ready for your more 
important tuition.” 

“I think,” replied Mr. Easy, after a pause, “that what 
you say merits consideration. I acknowledge that in con- 
sequence of Mrs. Easy’s nonsensical indulgence, the boy 
is unruly, and will not obey me at present; and if your 
friend does not apply the rod, I will think seriously of 
sending my son John to him to learn the elements.” 

The doctor had gained his point by flattering the phi- 
losopher. 

In a day he returned with a letter from the pedagogue 
in answer to one supposed to be sent to him, in which the 
use of the birch was indignantly disclaimed, and Mr. Easy 
announced to his wife, when they met that day at tea- 
time, his intentions with regard to his son John. 

“To school, Mr. Easy? what, send Johnny to school! a 
mere infant to school!” 

“Surely, my dear, you must be aware that at nine years 
it is high time that he learned to read.” 

“Why, he almost reads already, Mr. Easy; surely I can 
teach him that. Does he not, Sarah?” 

“Lord bless him, yes, ma’am, he was saying his letters 
yesterday.” 

“Oh, Mr. Easy, what can have put this in your head? 
Johnny, dear, come here— tell me now what’s the letter 
A? You were singing it in the garden this morning.” 

“I want some sugar,” replibd Johnny, stretching his 
arm over the table to the sugar-basin, which was out of 
his reach. 

“Well, my love, you shall have a great lump if you will 
tell me what’s the letter A.” 

“A was an archer, and shot at a frog,” replied Johnny 
in a surly tone. 

“There now, Mr. Easy; and he can go through the 
whole alphabet — can’t he, Sarah?” 

“That he can, the dear— can’t you, Johnny, dear?” 

“No,” replied Johnny. 

“Yes, you can, my love, you know what’s the letter B. 
Now, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” replied Johnny. 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


15 


“There, Mr. Easy, you see what the boy knows, and 
how obedient he is too. Come, Johnny, dear, tell us what 
was B.” 

“No, I won’t,” replied Johnny. “I want some more 
sugar;” and Johnny, who had climbed on a chair, spread 
himself over the table to reach it. 

“Mercy! Sarah, pull him off — he’ll upset the urn,” 
screamed Mrs. Easy. Sarah caught hold of Johnny by 
the loins to pull him back, but Johnny, resisting the in- 
terference, turned round on his back as he lay on the 
table, and kicked Sarah in the face, just as she made 
another desperate grasp at him. The rebound from the 
kick, given as he lay on a smooth mahogany table, 
brought Johnny’s head in contact with the urn, which 
was upset in the opposite direction, and, notwithstanding 
a rapid movement on the part of Mr. Easy, he received a 
sufficient portion of boiling liquid on his legs to scald him 
severely, and induce him to stamp and swear in a very 
unphilosophical way. In the mean time Sarah and Mrs. 
Easy had caught up Johnny, and were both holding him 
at the same time, exclaiming and lamenting. The pain 
of the scald, and the indifference shown toward him, were 
too much for Mr. Easy’s temper to put up with. He 
snatched Johnny out of their arms, and, quite forgetting 
his equality and rights of man, belabored him without 
mercy. Sarah flew in to interfere, and received a blow 
which not only made her see a thousand stars, but sent 
her reeling to the floor. Mrs. Easy went off into hysterics 
and Johnny howled so as to be heard at a quarter of a 
mile. 

How long Mr. Easy would have continued it is impos- 
sible to say; but the door opened, and Mr. Easy looked 
up while still administering the punishment, and per- 
ceived Hr. Middleton in mute astonishment. He had 
promised to come in to tea, and enforce Mr. Easy’s argu- 
ments, if it were necessary; but it certainly appeared to 
him that in the argument which Mr. Easy was enforcing 
he required no assistance. However, at the entrance of 
Hr. Middleton Johnny was dropped, and lay roaring on 
the floor; Sarah remained too where she had been floored. 
Mrs. Easy rolled on the floor, the urn was also on the 
floor, and Mr. Easy, although not floored, had not a leg 
to stand upon. 


16 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


Never did a medical man look in more opportunely. 
Mr. Easy at first was not certainly of that opinion, but 
his legs became so painful that he soon became a convert. 

Dr. Middleton, as in duty bound, first picked up Mrs. 
Easy, and laid her on the sofa. Sarah rose, picked up 
Johnny, and carried him kicking and roaring out of the 
room ; in return for which attention she received sundry 
bites. The footman, who had announced the doctor, 
picked up the urn, that being all that was in his depart- 
ment. Mr, Easy threw himself panting and in agony on 
the other sofa, and Dr. Middleton was excessively em- 
barrassed how to act ; he perceived that Mr. Easy required 
his assistance and that Mrs. Easy could do without it; but 
how to leave a lady who was half really and half pretend- 
edly in hysterics, was difficult; for if he attempted to 
leave her she kicked and flounced, and burst out the 
more. At last Dr. Middleton rang the bell, which 
brought the footman, who summoned all the maids, who 
carried Mrs. Easy upstairs, and then the doctor was able 
to attend to the only patient who really required his as- 
sistance. Mr. Easy explained the affair in few words, 
broken into ejaculations from pain, as the doctor removed 
his stockings. From the applications of Dr. Middleton, 
Mr. Easy soon obtained bodily relief ; but what annoyed 
him still more than his scalded legs was the doctor hav- 
ing been a witness to his infringement of the equality and 
rights of man. Dr. Middleton perceived this, and he 
knew also how to pour balm into that wound. 

“My dear Mr. Easy, I am very sorry that you have had 
this accident, for which you are indebted to Mrs. Easy’s 
foolish indulgence of the boy, but I am glad to perceive 
that you have taken up those parental duties which are 
inculcated by the Scriptures. Solomon says, ‘that he 
who spares the rod, spoils the child,’ thereby implying 
that it is the duty of a father to correct his children, and 
in a father the so doing does not interfere with the rights 
of man, or any natural equality, for the son being a part 
or portion of the father, he is only correcting his own 
self, and the proof of it is, that a father, in punishing his 
own son, feels as much pain in so doing as if he were him- 
self punished. It is therefore nothing but self-discipline, 
which is strictly enjoined us by the Scriptures.” 

“That is exactly my opinion,” replied Mr. Easy, com' 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


17 


forted at the doctor having so logically got him out of the 
scrape. “But — he shall go to school to-morrow, that I’m 
determined on.” 

“He will have to thank Mrs. Easy for that,” replied 
the doctor. 

“Exactly,” replied Mr. Easy. “Doctor, my legs are 
getting very hot again.” 

“Continue to bathe them with vinegar and water, Mr. 
Easy, until I send you an embrocation, which will give 
you immediate relief. I will call to-morrow. By the 
bye, I am to see a little patient at Mr. Bonnycastle’s; if 
it is any accommodation, I will take your son with me.” 

“It will be a great accommodation, doctor,” replied 
Mr. Easy. 

“Then, my dear sir, I will just go up and see how Mrs. 
Easy is, and to-morrow I will call at ten. I can wait an 
hour. Good-night.” 

“Good-night, doctor.” 

The doctor had his game to play with Mrs. Easy. He 
magnified her husband’s accident — he magnified his wrath, 
and advised her by no means to say one word until he was 
well and more pacified. The next day he repeated this 
dose, and, in spite of the ejaculations of Sarah, and the 
tears of Mrs. Easy, who dared not venture to plead her 
cause, and the violent resistance of Master Johnny, who 
appeared to have a presentiment of what was to come, our 
hero was put into Dr. Middleton’s chariot, and with the 
exception of one plate of glass which he kicked out of the 
window with his feet, and for which feat the doctor, now 
that he had him all to himself, boxed his ears till he was 
nearly blind, he was, without any further eventful occur- 
rence, carried by the doctor’s footman into the parlor of 
Mr. Bonnycastle. 


CHAPTER Y. 

JACK EAST IS SENT TO A SCHOOL AT WHICH THERE IS 

NO FLOGGING. 

Master Jack had been plumped down in a chair by 
the doctor’s servant, who, as he quitted him, first looked 
at his own hands, from which the blood was drawn in 


18 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


several parts, and then at Master Jack, with his teeth 
closed and lips compressed, as much as to say, “If I only 
dared, would not I, that’s all!” and then walked out of 
the room, repaired to the carriage at the front door, when 
he showed his hands to the coachman, who looked down 
from his box in great commiseration, at the same time 
fully sharing his fellow-servant’s indignation. But we 
must repair to the parlor. Dr. Middleton ran over a 
newspaper, while Johnny sat on the chair all of a heap, 
looking like a lump of sulks, with his feet on the upper 
front bar, and his knees almost up to his nose. He was a 
promising pupil, Jack. 

Mr. Bonnycastle made his appearance — a tall, well-built, 
handsome, fair man, with a fine powdered head, dressed 
in solemn black, and knee-buckles; his linen beautifully 
clean, and with a peculiar bland expression of counte- 
nance. When he smiled he showed a row of teeth white 
as ivory, and his mild blue eye was the ne plus ultra of 
beneficence. He was the beau-ideal of a preceptor, and 
it was impossible to see him and hear his mild, pleasing 
voice, without wishing that all your sons were under his 
protection. He was a ripe scholar, and a good one, and 
at the time we speak of, had the care of upward of one 
hundred boys. He was celebrated for turning them out 
well, and many of his pupils were rising fast in the senate, 
as well as distinguishing themselves in the higher pro- 
fessions. 

Dr. Middleton, who was on intimate terms with Bonny- 
castle, rose as he entered the room, and they -shook hands. 
Middleton then turned to where Jack sat, and pointing to 
him, said, “Look there.” 

Bonnycastle smiled. “1 cannot say that I have had 
worse, but I have almost as bad. I will apply the Prome- 
thean torch, and soon vivify that rude mass. Come, sit 
down, Middleton.” 

“But,” said the doctor, as he resumed his chair, “tell 
me, Bonnycastle, how you will possibly manage to lick 
such a cub into shape, when you do not resort to 
flogging?” 

“I have no opinion of flogging, and therefore I do not 
resort to it. The fact is, I was at Harrow myself, and 
was rather a pickle. I was called up as often as most 
boys in the school, and I perfectly recollect that event- 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


19 


Hally 1 cared nothing for a flogging. I had become case- 
hardened. It is the least effective part that yon can 
touch a hoy upon. It leaves nothing behind to refresh 
their memory.” 

“I should have thought otherwise.” 

4 ‘My dear Middleton, I can produce more effect by one 
caning than twenty floggings. Observe, you flog upon a 
part for most part quiescent; but you cane upon all parts, 
from the head to the heels. Now, when once the first 
sting of the birch is over, then a dull sensation comes over 
the part, and the pain after that is nothing; whereas a 
good sound caning leaves sores and bruises in every part, 
and on all the parts which are required for muscular ac- 
tion. After a flogging a boy may run out in the hours of 
recreation and join his playmates as well as ever, but a 
good caning tells a very different tale; he cannot move 
one part of his body without being reminded for days by 
the pain of the punishment he has undergone, and he is 
very careful how he is called up again.” 

“My dear sir, I really had an idea that you were ex- 
cessively lenient,” replied Middleton, laughing; “I am 
glad that I am under a mistake.” 

“Look at that cub, doctor, sitting there more like a 
brute than a reasonable being; do you imagine that I 
could ever lick it into shape without strong measures? 
At the same time, allow me to say that I consider my 
system by far the best. At the public schools, punish- 
ment is no check ; it is so trifling that it is derided : with 
me punishment is punishment in the true sense of the 
word, and the consequence is that it is much more sel- 
dom resorted to.” 

> “You are a terrorist, Bonnycastle.” 

“The two strongest impulses in our natures are fear 
and love. In theory, acting upon the latter is very beau- 
tiful ; but in practice, I never found it to answer, and for 
the best of reasons : our self-love is stronger than our love 
for others. Now I never yet found fear to fail, for the 
very same reason that the other does, because witfy fear 
we act upon self-love, and nothing else.” 

“And yet we have many now who would introduce a 
system of schooling without correction ; and who main- 
tain that the present system is degrading.” 

“There are a great many fools in this world, doctor.” 


20 


MB, MIDSHIPMAN MS?, 


“ That reminds me of this boy’s father,” replied Dr. 
Middleton; who then detailed to the pedagogue the 
idiosyncrasy of Mr. Easy, and all the circumstances at- 
tending Jack being sent to his school. 

“There is no time to be lost, then, doctor. I must con- 
quer this young gentleman before his parents call to see 
‘fhim. Depend upon it, in a week I will have him obedient 
*and well broke in.” 

Dr. Middleton wished Jack good-by, and told him to 
be a good boy. Jack did not vouchsafe to answer. 
“Never mind, doctor, he will be more polished next time 
you call here, depend upon it.” And the doctor de- 
parted. 

Although Mr. Bonnycastle was severe, he was very judi- 
cious. Mischief of all kinds was visited but by slender 
punishment, such as being kept in at play hours, etc. ; 
and he seldom interfered with the boys for fighting, al- 
though he checked decided oppression. The great sine 
qud non with him was attention to their studies. He 
soon discovered the capabilities of his pupils, and he 
forced them accordingly ; but the idle boy, the bird who 
“could sing and wouldn’t sing,” received no mercy. The 
consequence was, that he turned out the cleverest boys, 
and his conduct was so uniform and unvarying in its 
tenor that if he was feared when they were under his 
control, he was invariably liked by those whom he had in- 
structed, and they continued his friends in after-life. 

Mr. Bonnycastle at once perceived that it was no use 
coaxing our hero, and that fear was the only attribute by 
which he could be controlled. So, as soon as Dr. Middle- 
ton had quitted the room, he addressed him in a com- 
manding tone, “'Now, boy, what is your name?” 

Jack started; he looked up at his master, perceived his 
eye fixed upon him, and a countenance not to be played 
with. Jack was no fool, and somehow or another, the 
discipline he had received from his father had given him 
some intimation of what was to come. All this put to- 
gether, induced Jack to condescend to answer, with his 
fore-finger between his. teeth, “Johnny.” 

“And what is your other name, sir?” 

Jack, who appeared to repent his condescension, did 
not at first answer; but he looked again in Mr. Bonny- 
castle’s face, and then round the room; there was no one 


Mr. midshipman hast 


21 


to help him, and he could not help himself, so he replied 
“Easy.” 

“Do you know why you are sent to school ?” 

‘‘Scalding father.” 

“No; you are sent to learn to read and write.” 

“But I won’t read and write,” replied Jack sulkily. 

“Yes, you will; and you are going to read your letters 
now directly.” 

Jack made no answer. Mr. Bonnycastle opened a sort 
of book-case, and displayed to John’s astonished view a 
series of canes, ranged up and down like billiard-cues, and 
continued, “Do you know what those are for?” 

Jack eyed them wistfully; he had some faint idea that 
he was sure to be better acquainted with them, but he 
made no answer. 

“They are to teach little boys to read and write, and 
now I am going to teach you. You’ll soon learn. Look 
now here,” continued Mr. Bonnycastle, opening a book 
with large type, and taking a capital at the head of a 
chapter, about half an inch long. “Do you see that 
letter?” 

“Yes,” replied Johnny, turning his eyes away, and 
picking his fingers. 

“Well, that is the letter B. Do you see it? Look at 
it so that you may know it again. That’s the letter B. 
Now tell me what letter that is.” 

Jack now determined to resist, so he made no answer. 

“So you cannot tell; well, then, we will try what one 
of these little fellows will do, ’’said Mr. Bonnycastle, tak- 
ing down a cane. “Observe, Johnny, that’s the letter B. 
Now, what letter is that? Answer me directly.” 

“I won’t learn to read and write.” 

Whack came the cane on Johnny’s shoulders, who 
burst out into a roar as he writhed with pain. 

Mr. Bonnycastle waited a few seconds. “That’s the 
letter B. Now tell me, sir, directly, what that letter is!” 

“I’ll tell my mar.” Whack! “0 law! 0 law!” 

“What letter is that?” 

Johnny with his mouth open, panting, and the tears 
on his cheeks, answered indignantly: “Stop till I tell 
Sarah.” 

Whack came the cane again, and a fresh burst from 
Johnny. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 




“Wliat letter’s that?” 

“I won’t tell,” roared Johnny: “I won’t tell— that I 
won’t.” 

Whack — whack — whack, and a pause. “I told you be- 
fore that’s the letter B. What letter is that? Tell me 
directly.” 

Johnny, by way of reply, made a snatch at the cane. 
Whack — he caught it, certainly; but not exactly as he 
would have wished. Johnny then snatched up the book, 
and dashed it to the corner of the room. Whack, whack ! 
Johnny attempted to seize Mr. Bonnycastle with his teeth. 
Whack, whack, whack, whack ! and Johnny fell on the 
carpet, and roared with pain. Mr. Bonnycastle then left 
him for a little while, to recover himself, and sat down. 

At last Johnny’s exclamations settled down in deep 
sobs, and then Mr. Bonnycastle said to him, “Now, 
Johnny, you perceive that you must do as you are bid, or 
else you will have more beating. Get up immediately. 
Do you hear, sir?” 

Somehow or another, Johnny, without intending it, 
stood upon his feet. 

“That’s a good boy; now you see, by getting up as .you 
were bid, you have not been beaten. Now, Johnny, you 
must go and bring the book from where you threw it 
down. Do you hear, sir? bring it directly!” 

Johnny looked at Mr. Bonnycastle and the cane. With 
every intention to refuse, Johnny picked up the book and 
laid it on the table. 

“That’s a good boy; now we will find the letter B. 
Here it is; now, Johnny, tell me what that letter is.” 

Johnny made no answer. 

“Tell me directly, sir,” said Mr. Bonnycastle, raising 
his cane up in the air. The appeal was too powerful. 
Johnny eyed the cane; it moved, it was coming. Breath- 
lessly he shrieked out, “B!” 

“Very well indeed, Johnny— very well. Now your first 
lesson is over, and you shall go to bed. You have learned 
more than you think for. To-morrow we will begin 
again. Now we’ll put the cane by.” 

Mr. Bonnycastle rang the bell, and desired Master 
Johnny to be put to bed in a room by himself, and not 
to give him any supper, as hunger would, the next morn- 
ing, much facilitate his studies. Pain and hunger alone 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


n 

will tame brutes, and the same remedy must he applied to 
conquer those passions in man which assimilate him with 
brutes. J ohnny was conducted to bed, although it was 
hut six o’clock. He was not only in pain, hut his ideas 
were confused; and no wonder, after all his life having 
been humored and indulged — never punished until the 
day before. After all the caresses of his mother and 
Sarah, which he never knew the value of — after stuffing 
himself all day long and being tempted to eat till he 
turned away in satiety, to find himself without his 
mother, without Sarah, without supper — covered with 
wheals, and what was worse than all, without his own 
way. No wonder Johnny was confused, at the same time 
that he was subdued ; and, as Mr. Bonnycastle had truly 
told him, he had learned more than he had any idea of. 
And what would Mrs. Easy have said, had she known all 
this — and Sarah too? And Mr. Easy, with his rights of 
man? At the very time that Johnny was having the 
devil driven out of him, they were consoling themselves 
with the idea that, at all events, there was no birch used 
at Mr. Bonnycastle’s, quite losing sight of the fact that 
as there are more ways of killing a dog besides hanging 
him, so are there more ways of teaching than a posteriori. 
Happy in their ignorance, they all went fast asleep, little 
dreaming that Johnny was already so far advanced in 
knowledge as to have a tolerable comprehension of the 
mystery of cane. As for Johnny, he had cried himself 
to sleep at least six hours before them. 


CHAPTER VI. 

IN WHICH JACK MAKES ESSAY OF HIS FATHER’S SUB- 
LIME PHILOSOPHY, AND ARRIVES VERY NEAR TO 
TRUTH AT LAST. 

The next morning Master Jack Easy was not only very 
sore but very hungry, and as Mr. Bonnycastle informed 
him that he would not only have plenty of cane, but also 
no breakfast, if he did not learn his letters, Johnny had 
wisdom enough to say the whole alphabet, for which he 
received a great deal of praise, the which, if he did not 


24 


mr . midshipman 


duly appreciate, he at all events infinitely preferred to 
beating. Mr. Bonnycastle perceived that he had con- 
quered the hoy by one hour’s well-timed severity. He 
therefore handed him over to the ushers in the school, 
and as they were equally empowered to administer the 
needful impulse, Johnny very soon became a very tractar 
ble hoy. * 

It may he imagined that the absence of J ohnny was 
severely felt at home, but such was not the case. In the 
first place, Dr. Middleton had pointed out to Mrs. Easy 
that there was no flogging at the school, and that the 
punishment received by Johnny from his father would 
very likely be repeated — and in the next, although Mrs. 
Easy thought that she never could have survived the part- 
ing with her own son, she soon found out that she was much 
happier without him. A spoiled child is always a source of 
anxiety and worry, and after Johnny ’s departure Mrs. 
Easy found a quiet and repose much more suited to her 
disposition. Gradually she weaned herself from him, and 
satisfied with seeing him occasionally, and hearing the 
reports of Dr. Middleton, she, at last, was quite reconciled 
to his being at school, and not coming back except during 
the holidays. John Easy made great progress; he had 
good natural abilities, and Mr. Easy rubbed his hands 
when he saw the doctor, saying, “Yes, let them have him 
for a year or two longer, and then I’ll finish him myself.” 
Each vacation he had attempted to instill into Johnny’s 
mind the equal rights of man. Johnny appeared to pay 
but little attention to his father’s discourses, but evidently 
showed that they were not altogether thrown away, as he 
helped himself to everything he wanted, without asking 
leave. And thus was our hero educated until he arrived 
at the age of sixteen, when he was a stout, good-looking 
boy, with plenty to say for himself— indeed, when it 
suited his purpose, he could out-talk his father. 

Nothing pleased Mr. Easy so much as Jack’s loquacity. 
“That’s right; argue the point — argue the point, boy,” 
would he say, as Jack disputed with his mother. And then 
he would turn to the doctor, rubbing his hands, and observe, 
“Depend upon it, Jack will be a great, a very great man.” 
And then he would call Jack and give him a guinea for 
his cleverness; and at last Jack thought it a very clever 
thing to argue. He never would attempt to argue with 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


Mr. Bonnycastle, because he was aware that Mr. Bonny- 
castle’s arguments were too strong for him, but he argued 
with all the boys until it ended in a fight which decided 
the point; and he sometimes argued with the ushers. In 
short, at the time we now speak of, which was at the 
breaking up of the midsummer holidays, Jack was as full 
of argument as he was fond of it. He would argue the 
point to the point of a needle, and he would divide that 
point into as many as there were days of the year, and 
argue upon each. In short, there was no end to Jack’s 
arguing the point, although there seldom was point to his 
argument. 

Jack had been fishing in the river, without any success, 
for a whole morning, and observed a large pond which 
had the appearance of being well stocked — he cleared the 
park palings, and threw in his line. He had pulled up 
several fine fish, when he was accosted by the proprietor, 
accompanied by a couple of keepers. 

“May I request the pleasure of your name, young gen- 
tleman?” said the proprietor to Jack. 

Now Jack was always urbane and polite. 

“Certainly, sir; my name is Easy, very much at your 
service.” 

“And you appear to me to be taking it very easy,” re- 
plied the gentleman. “Pray, sir, may I inquire whether 
you are aware that you are trespassing?” 

“The word trespass, my dear sir,” replied Jack, “will 
admit of much argument, and I will divide it into three 
heads. It implies, according to the conventional mean- 
ing, coming without permission upon the land or property 
of another. Now, sir, the question may all be resolved in 
the following. Was not the world made for all? and has 
any one, or any portion of its inhabitants, an exclusive 
fight to claim any part of it, as his property? If you 
please, I have laid down the proposition, and we will now 
argue the point.” 

The gentleman who accosted Jack had heard of Mr. 
Easy and his arguments; he was a humorist, and more 
inclined to laugh than to be angry, at the same time that 
he considered it necessary to show Jack that under exist- 
ing circumstances they were not tenable. 

“But, Mr. Easy, allowing the trespass on the property 
to be venial, surely you do not mean to say that you are 


26 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


justified in taking my fish; I bought the fish, and stocked 
the pond, and have fed them ever since. You cannot deny 
but that they are private property, and that to take them 
is a theft?” 

“That will again admit of much ratiocination, my dear 
sir,” replied Jack; “but, I beg your pardon, I have a 
fish.” Jack pulled up a large carp, much to the indig- 
nation of the keepers, and to the amusement of their 
master, unhooked it, placed it in his basket, renewed his 
bait with the , greatest sang froid , and then throwing in 
his line, resumed his discourse. “As I was observing, my 
dear sir,” continued Jack, “that will admit of much ra- 
tiocination. All the creatures of the earth were given to 
man for his use — man means mankind — they were never 
intended to be made a monopoly of. Water is also the 
gift of Heaven, and meant for the use of all. We now 
come to the question how far the fish are your property. 
If the fish only bred on purpose to please you, and make 
you a present of their stock, it might then require a dif- 
ferent line of argument ; but as in breeding they only acted 
in obedience to an instinct with which they are endowed 
on purpose that they may supply man, I submit to you 
that you cannot prove these fish to be’ yours more than 
mine. As for feeding with the idea that they w T ere your 
own, that is not an unusual case in this world, even when 
a man is giving bread and butter to his children. Further 
— but I have another bite — I beg your pardon, my dear 
sir — ah! he‘s olf again ” 

“Then, Mr. Easy, you mean to say that the world and 
its contents are made for all.” 

“Exactly, sir, that is my father’s opinion, who is a very 
great philosopher.” 

“How then does your father account for some possess- 
ing property and others being without it?” 

“Because those who are the strongest have deprived 
those who are weaker.” 

“But would not that be always the case, even if we 
were in that state of general inheritance which you have 
supposed? For instance, allowing two men to chase the 
same animal and both to come up to it at the same time, 
would not the strongest bear it olf?” 

“I grant that, sir.” 

“Well, then, where is your equality?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


27 


“That does not disprove that men, were not intended to 
be equal; it only proves that they are not so. Neither 
does it disprove that everything was not made for the 
benefit of all ; it only proves that the strong will take ad- 
vantage of the weak, which is very natural.” 

“Oh! you grant that to be very natural. Well, Mr. 
Easy, I am glad to perceive that we are of one mind, and 
I trust we shall continue so. You’ll observe that I and 
my keepers being three, we are the strong party in this 
instance, and admitting your argument, that the fish are 
as much yours as mine, still I take advantage of my 
strength to repossess myself of them, which is, as you say, 
very natural — James, take those fish.” 

“If you please,” interrupted Jack, “we will argue that 
point ” 

“Not at all; I will act according to your own arguments 
— I have the fish, but I now mean to have more — that 
fishing-rod is as much mine as yours, and being the 
stronger party, I will take possession of it. James, 
William, take that fishing-rod; it is ours.” 

“I presume you will first allow me to observe,” replied 
Jack, “that although I have expressed my opinion that 
the earth and the animals on it were made for us all, that 
I never yet have asserted that what a man creates by him- 
self, or has created for him for a consideration, is not his 
own property.” 

“I beg your pardon; the trees that that rod was made 
from were made for us all, and if you, or any one for you, 
have thought proper to make it into a rod, it is no more 
my fault than it is that I have been feeding the fish, with 
the supposition that they were my own. Everything 
being common, and it being but natural that the strong 
should take advantage of the weak, I must take that rod 
as my property, until I am dispossessed by one more pow- 
erful. Moreover, being the stronger party, and having 
taken possession of this land, which you say does not be- 
long to me more than to you, I also shall direct my keep- 
ers to see you off this property. James, take the rod, see 
Mr. Easy over the park palings. Mr. Easy, I wish you a 
good-morning.” 

“Sir, I beg your pardon; you have not yet heard all my 
arguments,” replied Jack, who did not approve of the 
conclusions drawn. 


28 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“I have no time to hear more, Mr. Easy; I wish yon a 
good-morning.” And the proprietor departed, leaving 
Jack in company with the keepers. 

“I’ll trouble you for that rod, master,” said William. 
James was very busy stringing the fish through the gills 
upon a piece of osier. 

“At all events, you will hear reason,” said Jack; “I 
have arguments ” 

“I never heard no good arguments in favor of poach- 
ing,” interrupted the keeper. 

“You’re an insolent fellow,” replied Jack. “It is by 
paying such vagabonds as you that people are able to he 
guilty of injustice.” 

“It’s by paying us that the land ain’t poached — and if 
there be some excuse for a poor devil who is out of work, 
there be none for you, who call yourself a gentleman.” 

“According to his ’count, as we be all equal, he be no 
more a gentleman than we be.” 

“Silence, you blackguard! I shall not condescend to 
argue with such as you ; if I did, I could prove that you 
are a set of base slaves, who have just as much right to this 
property as your master or I have.” 

“As you have, I dare say, master.” 

“As I have, you scoundrel! This pond is as much my 
property, and so are the fish in it, as they are of your 
master, who has usurped the right.” 

“I say, James, what do you say, shall we put the young 
gentleman in possession of his property?” said William, 
winking to the other. 

James took the hint; they seized Jack by the arms and 
legs, and soused him into the pond. Jack rose after a 
deep submersion, and floundered on shore blowing and 
spluttering. But in the mean time the keepers had walked 
away, carrying with them the rod and line, fish and tin 
can of bait, laughing loudly at the practical joke which 
they had played our hero. 

“Well,” thought Jack, “either there must be some 
mistake in my father’s philosophy, or else this is a very 
wicked world. I shall submit this case to my father.” 

And Jack received this reply— “I have told you before, 
Jack, that these important truths will not at present be ad- 
mitted; but it does not the less follow that they are true. 
This is the age of iron, in which might has become right j 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


29 


but the time will come when these truths will be admit- 
ted, and your father’s name will be more celebrated than 
that of any philosopher of ancient days. Recollect, Jack, 
that although in preaching against wrong, and advocating 
the rights of man, you will be treated as a martyr, it is 
still your duty to persevere, and if you are dragged 
through all the horse-ponds in the kingdom, never give 
up your argument.” 

“That I never will, sir,” replied Jack, “but the next 
time I argue it shall be, if possible, with power on my 
side, and, at all events, not quite so near a pond.” 

“I think,” said Mrs. Easy, who had been a silent 
listener, “that Jack had better fish in the river, and then, 
if he catches no fish, at all events he will not be soused in 
the water, and spoil his clothes.” 

But Mrs. Easy was no philosopher. 

A few days afterward Jack discovered, one fine morn- 
ing, on the other side of a hedge, a summer apple-tree 
bearing tempting fruit, and he immediately broke through 
the hedge, and climbing the tree, as our first mother did 
before him, he culled -the fairest and did eat. 

“I say, you sir, what are you doing there?” cried a 
rough voice. 

Jack looked down and perceived a stout, thick-set per- 
sonage in gray coat and red waistcoat, standing under- 
neath him. 

“Don’t you see what I’m about?” replied Jack; “I’m 
eating apples; shall I throw you down a few?” 

“Thank you kindly; the fewer that are pulled the bet- 
ter. Perhaps, as you are so free to give them to others as 
well as to help yourself, you may think that they are your 
own property?” 

“Not a bit more my property than they are yours, my 
good man.” 

“I guess that’s something like the truth; but you are 
not quite at the truth yet, my lad ; those apples are mine, 
and I’ll trouble you to come down as fast as you please; 
when you’re down we can then settle our accounts; and,” 
continued the man, shaking his cudgel, “depend upon it, 
you shall have your receipt in full.” 

Jack did not much like the appearance of things. 

“My good man,” said he, “it is quite a prejudice on 
your part to imagine that apples were not given, as well 


30 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


as all other fruit, for the benefit of us all— they are com- 
mon property, believe me.” 

“That’s a. mattter of opinion, my lad, and I may be 
allowed to have my own.” 

“You’ll find it in the Bible,’ 5 says Jack. 

“I never did yet, and I’ve read it through and through 
all, bating the ’Pocryfar.” 

“Then,” said Jack, “go home and fetch the Bible, and 
i’ll prove it to you.” 

“I suspect you’ll not wait till I come back again. No, 
no ; I have lost plenty of apples, and have long wanted to 
find the robbers out; now I’ve caught one I’ll take care 
that he don’t ’scape without apple-sauce, at all events— 
so come down, you young thief, come down directly, or it 
will be all the worse for you.” 

“Thank you,” said Jack, “but I am very well here. 
I will, if you please, argue the point from where I am.” 

“I’ve no time to argue the point, my lad, I’ve plenty 
to do, but do not think I’ll let you off. If you don’t 
choose to come down, why, then you may stay there, and 
I’ll answer for it, as soon as work is done I shall find you 
safe enough.” 

“What can be done,” thought Jack, “with a man who 
will not listen to argument? What a world is this! how- 
ever, he’ll not find me here when he comes back, I’ve a 
notion.” 

But in this Jack was mistaken. The farmer walked to 
the hedge and called to a boy, who took his orders and ran 
to the farm-house. In a minute or two a large bull-dog 
was seen bounding along the orchard to his master. 
“Mark him, Caesar,” said the farmer to the dog, “mark 
him.” The dpg crouched down in the grass, with his 
head up, and eyes glaring at Jack, showing a range of 
teeth that drove all our hero’s philosophy out of his 
head. 

“I can’t wait here, but Caesarean, and I will tell you, 
as a friend, that if he gets hold of you* he’ll not leave a 
limb of you together — when work’s done I’ll come back;” 
so saying, the farmer walked off, leaving Jack and the 
dog to argue the point, if so inclined. What a sad jade 
must Philosophy be, to put her votaries in such predica- 
ments! 

After awhile the dog laid his head down and closed 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


31 


his eyes, as if asleep, but Jack observed that at the least 
movement on his part one eye was seen to partially un- 
close, so Jack, like a prudent man, resolved to remain 
where he was. He picked a few more apples, for it was 
his dinner-time, and as he chewed he ruminated. 

Jack had been but a few minutes ruminating before he 
was interrupted by another ruminating animal, no less a 
personage than a bull, who had been turned out with full 
possession of the orchard, and who now advanced, bellow- 
ing occasionally, and tossing his head at the sight of 
Csesar, whom he considered as much a trespasser as his 
master had our hero. Caesar started on his legs and 
faced the bull, who advanced pawing, with his tail up in 
the air. When within a few yards the bull made a rush 
at the dog, who evaded him and attacked him in return, 
and thus did the warfare continue until the opponents 
were already at some distance from the apple-tree. Jack 
prepared for immediate flight, but unfortunately the com- 
bat was carried on by the side of the hedge at which Jack 
had gained admission. Never mind, thought Jack, there 
are two sides to every field, and although the other hedge 
joined on to the garden near to the farm-house, there was 
no option. “At all events,” said Jack, “I’ll try it.” 
Jack was slipping down the trunk, when he heard a tre- 
mendous roar; the bull-dog had been tossed by the bull; 
he was then high in the air, and Jack saw him fall on the 
other side of the hedge; and the bull was thus celebrating 
his victory with a flourish of trumpets. Upon which Jack, 
perceiving that he was relieved from his sentry, slipped 
down the rest of the tree and took to his heels. Unfortu- 
nately for Jack, the bull saw him, and, flushed with vic- 
tory, he immediately set up another roar, and bounded 
after Jack. Jack perceived his danger, and fear gave 
him wings; he not only flew over the orchard, but he flew 
over the hedge, which was about five feet high, just as 
the bull drove his head into it. Look before you leap, is 
an old proverb. Had Jack done so, he would have done 
better; but as there were cogent reasons to be offered in 
extenuation of our philosopher, we shall say no more, but 
merely state that Jack, when he got on the other side of 
the hedge, found that he had pitched into a small apiarv, 
and had upset two hives of bees, who resented the intru- 
sion ; and Jack had hardly time to get upon his legs before 


32 


MR, MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


he found them very busy stinging him in all quarters. 
All that Jack could do was to run for it, but the bees flew 
faster than he could run, and Jack was mad with pain, 
when he stumbled, half-blinded, over the brick-work of a 
well. Jack could not stop his pitching into the well, but 
he seized the iron chain as it struck him across the face. 
Down went Jack, and round went the windlass, and after 
a rapid descent of forty feet our hero found himself under 
water, and no longer troubled with the bees, who, whether 
they had lost scent of their prey from his rapid descent, 
or being notoriously clever insects, acknowledged the 
truth of the adage, “leave well alone,” had certainly left 
Jack with no other companion than Truth. Jack rose 
from his immersion, and seized the rope to which the 
chain of the bucket was made fast — it had all of it been 
unwound from the windlass, and therefore it enabled 
Jack to keep his head above water. After a few seconds 
Jack felt something against his legs; it was the bucket, 
about two feet under the water; Jack put his feet into it 
and found himself pretty comfortable, for the water, after 
the sting of the bees and the heat he had been put into 
by the race with the bull, was quite cool and refreshing. 

“At all events,” thought Jack, “if it had not been for 
the bull, I should have been watched by the dog, and 
then thrashed by the farmer; but then again, if it had 
not been for the bull, I should not have tumbled among 
the bees; and if it had not been for the bees, I should 
not have tumbled into the well; and if it had not been 
for the chain, I should have been drowned. Such has 
been the chain of events, all because I wanted to eat an 
apple. 

“However, I have got rid of the farmer, and the dog, 
and the bull, and the bees — all’s well that ends well; but 
how the devil am I to get out of the well? All creation 
appears to have conspired against the rights of man. As 
my father said, this is an iron age, and here I am swing- 
ing to an iron chain.” 

We have given the whole of Jack’s soliloquy, as it will 
prove that Jack was no fool, although he was a bit Of a 
philosopher; and a man who could reason so well upon 
cause and effect, at the bottom of a well up to his neck in 
water, showed a good deal of presence of mind. But, if 
Jack’s mind had been a little twisted by his father’s phi- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


33 


losophy, it had still sufficient strength and elasticity to 
recover itself in due time. Had Jack been a common per- 
sonage, we never should have selected him for our hero. 


CHAPTER VII. 

IN WHICH JACK MAKES SOME VERY SAGE REFLECTIONS 
AND COMES TO A VERY UNWISE DECISION. 

After all, it must be acknowledged that although there 
are cases of distress in which a well may become a place 
of refuge, a well is not at all calculated for a prolonged 
residence — so thought Jack. After he had been there 
some fifteen minutes his teeth chattered, and his limbs 
trembled ; he felt a numbness all over, and he thought it 
high time to call for assistance, which at first he would 
not, as he was afraid he should be pulled up to encounter 
the indignation of the farmer and his family. Jack was 
arranging his jaws for a halloo, when he felt the chain 
pulled up, and he slowly emerged from the water. At 
first he heard complaints of the weight of the bucket, at 
which Jack was not surprised, then he heard a tittering 
and laughing between two parties, and soon afterward he 
mounted up gayly. At last his head appeared above the 
low wall, and he was about to extend his arms so as to se- 
cure a position on it, when those who were working at 
the windlass beheld him. It was a heavy farming man 
and a maid-servant. 

“Thank you,” said Jack. 

One never should be too quick in returning thanks; 
the girl screamed and let go the winch, the man, fright- 
ened, did not hold it fast; it slipped from his grasp, 
whirled round, struck him under the chin and threw him 
over it, headlong, and before the “Thank you” was fairly 
out of Jack’s lips, down he went again like lightning to 
the bottom. Fortunately for Jack, he had not yet let go 
the chain, or he might have struck the sides and have 
been killed ; as it was, he was merely soused a second 
time, and in a minute or two regained his former position. 

“This is mighty pleasant,” thought Jack as he clapped 
his wet hat once more on his head j “at all eyents, they 


34 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


can’t now plead ignorance, they must know that I’m 
here.” 

In the mean time the girl ran into the kitchen, threw 
herself down on a stool from which she reeled off in a fit 
upon sundry heaps of dough waiting to be baked m the 
oven, which were laid to rise on the floor before the fire. 

“Mercy on me, what is the matter with Susan?” ex* 
claimed the farmer’s wife. “Here— where’s Mary— 
where’s John? Deary me, if the bread won’t all be 
turned to pancakes.” 

John soon followed, holding his under jaw in his hand, 
looking very dismal and very frightened, for two reasons, 
one because he thought that his jaw was broken, and the 
other, because he thought he had seen the devil. 

“Mercy on us, what is the matter?” exclaimed the farm- 
er’s wife again. “Mary, Mary, Mary!” screamed she. 
beginning to be frightened herself, for with all her efforts 
she could not remove Susan from the bed of dough, where 
she lay senseless and heavy as lead. Mary answered to 
her mistress’ loud appeal, and with her assistance they 
raised up Susan, but as for the bread, there was no hopes of 
it ever rising again. “Why don’t you come here and help 
Susan, John?” cried Mary. 

“Aw-yaw-aw!” was all the reply of John, who had had 
quite enough of helping Susan, and w T ho continued to hold 
his head, as it were, in his hands. 

“What’s the matter, here, missus?” exclaimed the 
farmer, coming in. “Highty-tighty, what ails Susan, and 
what ails you?” continued the farmer, turning to John. 
“Dang it, but everything seems to go wrong this blessed 
day. First there be all the apples stolen — then there be 
all the hives turned topsy-turvy in the garden — then there 
be Caesar with his flank opened by the bull— then there 
be the bull broken through the hedge and tumbled into 
the saw-pit — and now I come to get more help to drag 
him out, I find one woman dead like, and John looks as 
if he had seen the devil.” 

“Aw-yaw-aw!” replied John, nodding his head very 
significantly. 

‘ One would think that the devil had broke loose to- 
day. What is it, John? Have you seen him, and has 
Susan seen him?” 

“Aw-yawl” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


35 


“He’s stopped your jaw then, at all events, and I 
thought the devil himself wouldn’t have done that — we 
shall get nothing of you. Is that wench coming to her 
senses?” 

“Yes, yes, she’s better now. Susan, what’s the 
matter?” 

“Oh, oh, ma’am! the well, the well ” 

“The well! Something wrong there, I suppose; well, 
I will go and see.” 

The farmer trotted off to the well; he perceived the 
bucket was at the bottom and all the rope out; he looked 
about him, and then he looked into the well. Jack, who 
had become very impatient, had been looking up some time 
for the assistance which he expected would have come 
sooner; the round face of the farmer occasioned a partial 
eclipse of the round disk which bounded his view, just as 
one of the satellites of Jupiter sometimes obscures the 
face of the planet round which he revolves. 

“Here I am,” cried Jack, “get me up quick, or I shall 
be dead;” and what Jack said was true, for he was quite 
done up by having been so long down, although his cour- 
age had not failed him. 

“Dang it, but there be somebody fallen into the well,” 
cried the farmer; “no end to mishaps this day. Well, 
we must get a Christian out of a well afore we get a bull 
out of a saw-pit, so I’ll go call the men.” 

In a very short time the men who were assembled round 
the saw-pit were brought to the well. 

“Down below there, hold on now.” 

“Never fear,” cried Jack. 

Away went the winch, and once more Jack had an 
extended horizon to survey. As soon as he was at the 
top, the men hauled him over the bricks and laid him 
down upon the ground, for Jack’s strength had failed 
him. 

“Dang it, if it bean’t that chap who was on my apple- 
tree,” cried the farmer; “howsomever he must not die 
for stealing a few apples ; lift him up, lads, and take him 
in — he is dead with cold — no wonder!” 

The farmer led the way, and the men carried Jack into 
the house, when the farmer gave him a glass of brandy; 
this restored Jack’s circulation, and in a short time he 
was all right again. 


36 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


After some previous conversation, in which Jack nar- 
rated all that had happened, 4 ‘What may be your name?” 
inquired the farmer. 

“My name is Easy,” replied Jack. 

“What, be you the son o± Mr. Easy, of Forest Hill?” 

“Yes.” 

“Dang it, he be my landlord, and a right good land- 
lord too — why didn’t you say so when you were up in the 
apple-tree? You might have picked the whole orchard 
and welcome.” 

“My dear sir,” replied Jack who had taken a second glass 
of brandy and was quite talkative again, “let this be a 
warning to you, and when a man proposes to argue the 
point, always, in future, listen. Had you waited, I 
would have proved to you most incontestably that you 
had no more right to the apples than I had ; but you 
would not listen to argument, and without discussion we 
can never arrive at truth. You send for your dog, who 
is ripped up by the hull — the bull breaks his leg in a saw- 
pit — the bee-hives are overturned and you lose all your 
honey — your man John breaks his jaw — your maid Susan 
spoils all the bread — and why? because you would not 
allow me to argue the point.” 

“Well, Mr. Easy, if it be all true that all these mishaps 
have happened because I would not allow you to 
argue the point, perhaps, although, as I rent the orchard 
from your father, I cannot imagine how you could have 
proved to me that the apples were not mine; but now let’s 
take your side of the question, and I don’t see how you be 
much better off — you get up in a tree for a few apples, 
with plenty of money to buy them if you like — you are 
kept there by a dog — you are nearly gored by a bull — you 
are stung by the bees, and you tumble souse into a well, 
and are nearly killed a dozen times, and all for a few 
apples not worth twopence.” 

“All very true, my good .man,” replied Jack; “but 
you forget that I, as a philosopher, was defending the 
rights of man.” 

“Well, I never knew before that a lad who stole apples 
was called a philosopher — we calls it petty larceny in the 
indictments; and as for your rights of man, I cannot see 
how they can be defended by doing what’s wrong.” 

“You do not comprehend the matter, farmer.” 


MR. MID SHIP M A H HAST. 


‘‘No, I don’t — -and I be too old to learn, Master Easy. 
All I have to say is this, you are welcome to all the apples 
in the orchard if you please, and if you prefers, as it 
seems you do, to steal them, instead of asking for them, 
which I only can account for by the reason that they say 
that ‘stolen fruit be sweetest,’ I’ve only to say that I shall 
give orders that you be not interfered with. My chaise 
< be at the door, Master Easy, and the man will drive you 
to your father’s — make my compliments to him, and say 
that I’m very sorry that you tumbled into our well.” 

As Jack was much more inclined for bed than argu- 
ment, he wished the farmer good-night, and allowed him- 
self to be driven home. 

The pain from the sting of the bees, now that his 
circulation had fully returned, was so great that he 
was not sorry to find Dr. Middleton taking his tea 
with his father and mother. Jack merely said that 
he had been so unfortunate as to upset a hive, and had 
been severely stungj He deferred the whole story till 
another opportunity. Dr. Middleton prescribed for Jack, 
but on taking his hand, found that he was in a high fever, 
which, after the events of the day, was not to be wondered 
at. Jack was bled and kept his bed for a week, by which 
time he was restored; but during that time Jack had been 
thinking very seriously, and had made up his mind. 

But we must explain a circumstance which had occurred 
which was probably the cause of Jack’s decision. When 
Jack returned on the evening in question he found seated 
with his father and Dr. Middleton a Captain Wilson, a 
sort of cousin to the family who but occasionally paid them 
a visit, for he lived at some distance; and having a wife 
and large family, with nothing but his half-pay for their 
support, he could not afford to expend even shoe-leather 
in compliments. The object of this visit on the part of 
Captain Wilson was to request the aid of Mr. Easy. He 
had succeeded in obtaining his appointment to a sloop of 
war (for he was in the king’s service), but was without 
the means of fitting himself out, without leaving his wife 
and family penniless. He therefore came to request Mr. 
Easy to lend him a few T hundred pounds, until he should 
be able, by his prize-money, to repay them. Mr. Easy 
was not a man to refuse such a request, and, always having 
plenty of spare cash at his banker’s, he drew a check for 


88 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


a thousand pounds, which he gave to Captain Wilson, re* 
questing that he would only repay it at his convenience. 
Captain Wilson wrote an acknowledgment of the debt, 
promising to pay upon his first prize-money, which re- 
ceipt, however binding it may he to a man of honor, was 
in point of law about as valuable as if he had agreed to 
pay as soon “as the cows came home.” The affair had 
been just concluded, and Captain Wilson had returned into 
the parlor with Mr. Easy, when Jack returned from his! 
expedition. 

Jack greeted Captain Wilson, whom he had long known; 
but, as we before observed, he suffered so much pain that 
he soon retired with Dr. Middleton, and went to bed. 

During a week there is room for much reflection even 
in a lad of fourteen, although at that age we are not much 
inclined to think. But Jack was in bed; his eyes were so 
swollen with the stings of the bees that he could neither 
read nor otherwise amuse himself; and he preferred his 
own thoughts to the gabble of Sarah, who attended him ; 
so Jack thought, and the result of his cogitations we shall 
soon bring forward. 

It was on the eighth day that Jack left his bed and came 
down into the drawing-room. He then detailed to his 
father the adventures which had taken place, which had 
obliged him to take to his bed. 

“You see, Jack,” replied his father, “it’s just what I 
told you ; the world is so utterly demoralized by what is 
called social compact, and the phalanx supporting it by 
contributing a portion of their unjust possessions for the 
security of the remainder is so powerful, that any one 
who opposes it must expect to pass the life of a martyr; 
but martyrs are always required previous to any truth, 
however sublime, being received, and, like Abraham, 
whom I have always considered as a great philosopher, I 
am willing to sacrifice my only son in so noble a cause.” 

“That’s all very good on your part* father, but we must 
argue the point a little. If you are as great a philosopher 
as Abraham, I am not quite so dutiful a son as Isaac, 
whose blind obedience, in my opinion, is very contrary to 
your rights of man — but the fact in few words is simply 
this. In promulgating your philosophy, in the short space 
of two days I have been robbed of the fish I caught and 
my rod and line — I have been soused into a fish-pond — I 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


80 


have been frightened out of my wits by a bull-dog — been 
nearly killed by a bull — been stung to death by bees and 
twice tumbled into a well. Now if all that happens in two 
days, what must I expect to suffer in a whole year? It 
appears to be very unwise to attempt making further con- 
verts, for people on shore seem determined not to listen 
to reason or argument. But it has ’occurred to me that 
although the whole earth has been so nefariously divided 
among the few, the waters at least are the property 
of all. No man claims his share of the sea — every one 
may there plow as he pleases, without being taken up for a 
trespasser. Even war makes no difference; every one 
may go on as he pleases, and if they meet, it is nothing 
but a neutral ground on which the parties contend. It 
is, then, only upon the ocean that I am likely to find that 
equality and rights of man which we are so anxious to 
establish on shore; and therefore I have resolved not to 
go to school again, which I detest, but to go to sea, and 
propagate our opinions as much as I can.” 

“I cannot listen to that, Jack. In the first place, you 
must return to school ; in the next place, you shall not go 
to sea.” 

. “Then, father, all I have to say is, that I swear by the 
rights of man I will not go back to school, and that I will 
go to sea. Who and what is to prevent me? Was I not 
born my own master? Has any one a right to dictate to me 
as if I were not his equal? Have I not as much right to 
my share of the sea as any other mortal? I stand upon 
perfect equality,” continued Jack, stamping his right foot 
on the floor. 

What had Mr. Easy to offer in reply? He must either, 
as a philosopher, have sacrificed his hypothesis, or, as a 
father, have sacrificed his son. Like all philosophers, he 
preferred what he considered as the less important of the 
two, he sacrificed Ms son; but we will do him justice, he 
did it with a sigh. 

“Jack, you shall, if you wish it, goto sea.” 

“That of course,” replied Jack, with the air of a con- 
queror, “but the question is, with whom? Now it has 
occurred to me that Captain Wilson has just been ap- 
pointed to a ship, and I should like to sail with him.” 

“I will write to him,” said Mr. Easy mournfully, “but 
I should have liked to have felt his head first;” and thus 
was the matter arranged*^ 


40 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN PAST. 


The answer from Captain Wilson was, of course, in the 
affirmative, and he promised that he would treat Jack as 
his own son. 

Our hero mounted his father’s horse and rode off to Mr. 
BQnnycastle. 

“I am going to sea, Mr. Bonny castle.” 

“The very best thing for you,” replied Mr. Bonny- 
castle. 

Our hero met Dr. Middleton. 

“I am goingto sea, Dr. Middleton.” 

“The very best thing for you,” replied the doctor. 

“I am going to sea, mother,” said John. 

“To sea, John, to sea; no, no, dear John, you are not 
going to sea,” replied Mrs. Easy with horror. 

“Yes, I am, father has agreed, and says he will obtain 
your consent.” 

“My consent! Oh, my dear, dear boy!” and Mrs. Easy 
wept bitterly, as Rachel mourning for her children. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

IN WHICH MR. EASY HAS HIS FIRST LESSON AS TO ZEAL 
IN HIS MAJESTY’S SERVICE. 

As there was no time to lose, our hero very soon bade 
adieu to his paternal roof, as the phrase is, and found his 
way down to Portsmouth. As Jack had plenty of money, 
and was very much pleased at finding himself his own 
master, he was in no hurry to join his ship, and five or six 
companions, not very creditable, whom either Jack had 
picked up, or had picked up Jack, and who lived upon 
him, strongly advised him to put it off until the very last 
moment. As this advice happened to coincide with 
Jack’s opinion, our hero was three weeks at Portsmouth 
before any one knew of his arrival, but at last Captain 
Wilson received a letter from Mr. Easy, by which he 
found that Jack had left home at the period we have men- 
tioned, and he desired the first lieutenant to make in- 
quiries, as he was afraid that some accident might have 
happened to him. As Mr. Sawbridge, the first lieuten- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


41 


ant, happened to be going on shore on the same evening 
for the last time previous to the ship’s sailing, he looked 
into the Blue Posts, George and Fountain Inns, to inquire 
if there was such a person arrived as Mr. Easy. “Oh, 
yes,” replied the waiter at the Fountain — “Mr. Easy has 
been here these three weeks.” 

“The devil he has,” roared Mr. Sawbridge with all the 
indignation of a first lieutenant defrauded three weeks of a 
, midshipman; “where is he — in the coffee-room?” 

“Oh, dear, no, sir,” replied the waiter; “Mr. Easy has 
the front apartments on the first floor.” 

“Well, then, show me up to the first floor.” 

“May I request the pleasure of your name, sir?” said 
the waiter. 

“First lieutenants don’t send up their names to mid- 
shipmen,” replied Mr. Sawbridge; “he shall soon know 
who I am.” 

At this reply, the waiter walked upstairs followed by 
Mr. Sawbridge, and threw open the door. 

“A gentleman wishes to see you, sir,” said the waiter. 

“Desire him to walk in,” said Jack; “and, waiter, 
mind that the punch is a little better than it was yester- 
day; I have asked two more gentlemen to dine here.” 

In the mean time Mr. Sawbridge, who was not in his 
uniform, had entered, and perceived Jack alone with the 
dinner-table laid out in the best style for eight, a con- 
siderable show of plate for even the Fountain Inn, and 
everything, as well as the apartment itself, according to 
Mr. Sawbridge’s opinion, much more fit for a commander- 
in-chief than a midshipman of a sloop of war. 

Now Mr. Sawbridge was a good officer, one who had 
really worked his way up to the present rank, that is to 
say, he had served twenty-seven years, and had noth- 
ing but his pay. He was a little soured in the service, 
and certainly had an aversion to the young men of family 
who were now fast crowding into it — and with some 
grounds, as he perceived his own chance of promotion 
decrease in the same ratio as the numbers increased. He 
considered that in proportion as midshipmen assumed a 
cleaner and more gentlemanly appearance, so did they 
become more useless, and it may therefore be easily imag- 
ined that his bile was raised by this parade and display in 
a lad who was very shortly to be, and ought three weeks 


42 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST \ 


before to Ik - e been, shrinking from his frown. Never- 
theless, Sawbridge was a good-hearted man, although a 
little envious of luxury, which he could not pretend to 
indulge in himself. 

“May I beg to ask,” said Jack, who was always remark- 
ably polite and gentlemanly in his address, “in what man- 
ner I may be of service to you?” 

“Yes, sir, you may — by joining your ship immediately. 
And may I beg to ask in return, sir, what is the reason 
you have stayed on shore three weeks without joining 
her?” 

Hereupon Jack, who did not much admire the per- 
emptory tone of Mr. Sawbridge, and who during the 
answer had taken a seat, crossed his legs, and played with 
a gold chain to which his watch was secured, after a pause 
very coolly replied : 

“And pray, who are you?” 

“Who am I, sir?” replied Sawbridge, jumping out of 
his chair — “my name is Sawbridge, sir, and I am the first 
lieutenant of the Harpy. Now, sir, you have your an- 
swer.” 

Mr. Sawbridge, who imagined that the name of the first 
lieutenant would strike terror to a culprit midshipman, 
threw himself back in the chair, and assumed an air of 
importance. 

“Really, sir,” replied Jack, “what may be your exact 
situation on board, my ignorance of the service will not 
allow me to guess, but if I may judge from your behavior, 
you have no small opinion of yourself.” 

“Look ye, young man, you may not know what a first 
lieutenant is, and I take it for granted that you do not, 
by your behavior; but depend upon it, I’ll let you know 
very soon. In the mean time, sir, I insist upon it that 
you go immediately on board.” 

“I’m sorry that I cannot comply with your very mod- 
erate request,” replied Jack coolly. “I shall go on board 
when it suits my convenience, and I beg that you will 
give yourself no further trouble on my account.” 

Jack then rang the bell; the waiter, who had been 
listening outside, immediately entered, and before Mr. 
Sawbridge, who was dumb with astonishment at Jack’s 
impertinence, could have time to reply — 

“Waiter,” said Jack, “show this gentleman down- 
stairs.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


43 


“By the god of war !” exclaimed the first lieutenant, 
“but I’ll soon show you down to the boat, my young ban- 
tam; and when once I get you safe on hoard, I’ll make 
you know the difference between a midshipman and a first 
lieutenant.” 

“I can only admit of equality , sir,” replied Jack; “we 
are all born equal; I trust you’ll allow that.” 

“Equality — damn it! I suppose you’ll take the com- 
mand of the ship. However, sir, your ignorance will be a 
little enlightened by and by. I shall now go and report 
your conduct to Captain Wilson; and I tell you plainly 
that if you are not on hoard this evening, to-morrow 
morning at daylight I shall send a sergeant and a file of 
marines to fetch you.” 

“You may depend upon it, sir,” replied Jack, “that I 
also shall not fail to mention to Captain Wilson that I 
consider you a very quarrelsome, impertinent fellow, and 
recommend him not to allow you to remain on board. It 
will he quite uncomfortable-to be in the same ship with 
such an ungentlemanly bear.” 

“He must be mad — quite mad!” exclaimed Sawbridge, 
whose astonishment even mastered his indignation. 
“Mad as a March hare — by God!” 

“Ho, sir,” replied Jack; “I am not mad, hut I am a 
philosopher.” 

“A what V ’ exclaimed Sawbridge; “damme, what next? 
Well, my joker, all the better for you; I shall put your 
philosophy to the proof.” 

“It is for that very reason, sir,” replied Jack, “that I 
have decided upon going to sea; and if you do remain on 
board, I hope to argue the point with you, and make you 
a convert to the truth of equality and the rights of man. ” 

“By the Lord that made us both! I’ll soon make you a 
convert to the thirty-six articles of war, that is, if you re- 
main on hoard; but I shall now go to the captain and 
report your conduct, sir, and leave you to your dinner 
with what appetite you may.” 

“Sir, I am infinitely obliged to you; hut you need not 
he afraid of my appetite. I am only sorry, as you happen 
to belong to the same ship, that I cannot, in justice to 
the gentlemanly young men whom I expect, ask you to 
join them. I wish you a very good-morning, sir.” 

“Twenty years have I been in the service,” roared Saw* 


44 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


bridge, “and, damme— but he’s mad— downright, stark, 
staring mad !” And the first lieutenant bounced out o f 
the room. 

Jack was a little astonished himself. Had Mr. Saw- 
bridge made his appearance in uniform, it might have been 
different; but that a plain-looking man, with black whisk- 
ers, shaggy hair, and old blue frock-coat, and yellow cassi- 
mere waistcoat, should venture to address him in such a 
manner, was quite incomprehensible “He calls me mad,” 
thought) Jack; “I shall tell Captain Wilson what is my 
opinion about his lieutenant.” Shortly afterward the 
company arrived, and Jack soon forgot all about it. 

In the mean time, Sawbridge called at the* captain’s 
lodgings, and found him at home. He made a very faith- 
ful report of all that had happened, and concluded his re- 
quest by demanding, in great wrath, either an instant 
dismissal or a court-martial on our hero, Jack. 

“Stop, Sawbiidge,” replied Captain Wilson, “take a 
chair; as Mr. Easy says, we must argue the point, and 
then I will leave it to your better feelings. As for the 
court-martial, it will not hold good, for Mr. Easy, in the 
first place, has not yet joined the ship, and in the next place 
could not be supposed to know that you were the first 
lieutenant, or even an officer, for you went to him out of 
uniform.” 

“Very true, sir,” replied Sawbridge, “I had forgotten 
that.” 

“Then, as for his dismissal, or rather, not allow- 
ing him to join, Mr. Easy has been brought up in the 
country, and has never seen anything aquatic larger than 
a fish-pond, perhaps, in his life; and as for the service, 
or the nature of it, I believe he is as ignorant of it as a 
child not a year old — I doubt whether he knows the rank 
of a lieutenant; certainly, he can have no idea of the 
power of a first lieutenant, by his treatment of you.” 

“I should think not,” replied Sawbridge dryly. 

“I do not think, therefore, that conduct which must 
have proceeded from sheer ignorance should be so severely 
punished — I appeal to you, Sawbridge.” 

“Well, sir, perhaps you are right — but still he told me 
he was a philosopher, and talked about equality and rights 
of man. Told me that he could only admit of equality 
between us, and begged to argue the point, Now ? sir, if 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


45 


a midshipman is to argue the point every time that an 
order is given, the service will come to a pretty pass.” 

“That is all very true, Sawbridge; and now you re- 
mind me of what never occurred to me at the time that 
I promised to take Mr. Easy in the ship. I now recollect 
that his father, who is a distant relation of mine, has 
some very wild notions in his head, just like what have 
been repeated by his son on your interview with him. I 
have occasionally dined there, and Mr. Easy has always 
been upholding the principles of natural equality and of 
the rights of man, much to the amusement of his guests, 
and I confess, at the time, of mine also. I recollect tell- 
ing him that I trusted he would never be able to dissem- 
inate his opinions in the service to which I belonged, as 
we should have an end of all discipline. I little thought, 
at the time, that his only son, who has no more occasion 
to go to sea than the Archbishop of Canterbury, for his 
father has a very handsome property — I believe seven or 
eight thousand a year — would ever have sailed with me, 
and have brought these opinions with him into any ship 
that I commanded. It is a pity, a great pity ” 

“He never could have brought his pigs to a worse mar- 
ket,” observed Sawbridge. 

“I agree with you, and, as a father myself, I cannot but 
help feeling how careful we should be, how we inculcate 
anything like abstract and philosophical ideas to youth. 
Allowing them to be in themselves correct, still they are 
dangerous as sharp instruments are in the hands of a 
child; allowing them to be erroneous, they are seized 
upon with an avidity by young and ardent minds, and are 
not to be eradicated without the greatest difficulty, and 
very often not until they have accomplished their ruin.” 

“Then you think, sir, that these ideas have taken deep 
root in this young man, and we shall not easily rid him of 
them?” 

“I do not say so; but still, recollect they have been 
instilled, perhaps from the earliest period, by one from 
whom they must have been received with all confidence — 
from a father to a son, and that son has never yet been 
sufficiently in the world to have proved their fallacy.” 

“Well, sir,” replied Sawbridge, “if I may venture to 
offer an opinion on the subject, and in so doing I assure 
you that I only shall from a feeling for the service— if, as 


46 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


you say, these opinions will not easily be eradicated, as the 
young man is independent, would it not be both better 
for himself, as well as for the service, that he is sent home 
again? As an officer he will never do any good for him- 
self, and he may do much harm to others. 1 submit this 
to you, Captain Wilson, with all respect, but as your first 
lieutenant, I feel very jealous at any chance of the dis- 
cipline of the ship being interfered with by the intro- 
duction of this young man, to whom it appears that a 
profession is no object.” 

“My dear Sawbridge,” replied Captain Wilson, after 
taking one or two turns up and down the room, “we en- 
tered the service together, we were messmates for many 
years, and you must be aware that it is not only long 
friendship, but an intimate knowledge of your unrewarded 
merit, which has induced me to request you to come with 
me as my first lieutenant. Now I will put a case to you, 
and you shall then decide the question — and moreover, I 
will abide by your decision. 

“Suppose that you were a commander like myself, with 
a wife and seven children, and that, struggling for many 
years to support them, you found yourself, notwithstand- 
ing the utmost parsimony, gradually running into debt 
That, after many long applications, you had at last suc- 
ceeded in obtaining employment by an appointment to a 
fine sloop, and there was every prospect, by prize-money 
and increased pay, of recovering yourself from your diffi- 
culties, if not realizing a sufficient provision for your fam- 
ily — then suppose that all this prospect and all these 
hopes were likely to be dashed to the ground by the fact 
of having no means of fitting yourself out, no credit, no 
means of paying debts you have contracted, for which you 
would have been arrested, or anything sufficient to leave 
for the support of your family during your absence, your 
agent only consenting to advance one-half of what you re- 
quire. Now suppose, in this awkward dilemma, without 
any one in this world upon whom you have any legitimate 
claim, as a last resource you were to apply to one with 
whom you have but a distant connection, and but an occa- 
sional acquaintance — and that when you had made your 
request for the loan of two or three hundred pounds, 
fully anticipating a refusal (from the feeling that he who 
goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing) — I say* suppose, to 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


47 


your astonishment, that this generons person was to 
present you with a check on his hanker for one thousand 
pounds, demanding no interest, no legal security, and 
requests you only to pay it at your convenience — I ask you, 
Sawbridge, what would be your feelings toward such a 
man?” 

“I would die for him,” replied Sawbridge, with emo- 
tion. ' 

“And suppose that, by the merest chance, or from a 
whim of the moment, the son of that man was to be placed 
under your protection?” 

“I would be a father to him,” replied Sawbridge. 

“But we must proceed a little further: suppose that 
you were to find the lad was not all that you could wish — 
that he had imbibed erroneous doctrines, which would 
probably, if not eradicated, be attended with consequences 
fatal to his welfare and happiness, would you, therefore, 
on that account, withdraw your protection, and leave 
him to the mercy of others who had no claims of gratitude 
to sway them in his favor?” 

“Most certainly not, sir,” replied Sawbridge; “on the 
contrary, I would never part with the son until, by pre- 
cept or otherwise, I had set him right again, and thus 
had, as far as it was possible, paid the debt of gratitude 
due to the generous father.” 

“I hardly need say to you, Sawbridge, after what has 
passed, that this lad you have just come from is the son, 
and that Mr. Easy of Forest Hill is the father.” 

“Then, sir, I tan only say that not only to please you, 
but also from respect to a man who has shown such good- 
will toward one of our cloth, I shall most cheerfully for- 
give all that has passed between the lad and me, and all 
that may probably take place before we make him what 
he ought to be.” 

“Thank you, Sawbridge: I expected as much, and am 
not disappointed in my opinion of you.” 

“And now, Captain Wilson, pray what is to be done?” 

“We must get him on board, but not with a file of 
marines; that will do more harm than good. I will send 
a note requesting him to breakfast with me to-morrow 
morning, and have a little conversation with him. I do 
not wish to frighten him; he would not scruple to run 
back to Forest" Hill — now I wish to keep him, if X possi- 
bly carp” 


48 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


“You are right, sir; his father appears his greatest 
enemy. What a pity that a man with so good a heart 
should he so weak in the head! Then, sir, I shall take 
no notice of this at present, but leave the whole affair in 
your hands. ” 

“Do, Sawbridge; you have obliged me very much by 
your kindness in this business.” 

Mr. Sawbridge then took his leave, and Captain Wilson 
dispatched a note to our hero, requesting the pleasure of 
his company to breakfast at nine o’clock the ensuing 
morning. The answer was in the affirmative, but verbal, 
for Jack had drunk too much champagne to trust his pen 
to paper. 


CHAPTER IX. 

IK WHICH MR. EASY FIKDS HIMSELF OK THE OTHER SIDE 
OF THE BAY OF BISCAY. 

The next morning Jack Easy would have forgotten all 
about his engagement with the captain, had it not been 
for the waiter, who thought that after the reception which 
our hero had given the first lieutenant, it would be just as 
well that he should not be disrespectful to the captain. 
Now Jack had not hitherto put on his uniform, and he ’ 
thought this a fitting occasion, particularly as the waiter 
suggested the propriety of his appearance in it. Whether 
it was from a presentiment of what he was to suffer, Jack 
was not at all pleased, as most lads are, with the change in 
his dress. It appeared to him that he was sacrificing his 
independence; however, he did not follow his first im- 
pulse, which was to take it off again, but took his hat, 
which the waiter had brushed and handed to him, and 
then set off for the captain’s lodgings. Captain Wilson 
received him as if he had not been aware of his delay in 
joining his ship, or his interview with his first lieutenant, 
but before breakfast was over, Jack himself narrated the 
affair in a few words. Captain Wilson then entered into 
a detail of the duties and rank of every person on board 
of the ship, pointing out to Jack that where discipline 
was required it was impossible, when duty was carried 
cn ? that more than one could command $ and that that 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


49 


one was the captain, who represented the king in person, 
who represented the country; and that, as the orders 
were transmitted from the captain through the lieutenant, 
and from the lieutenant to the midshipmen, who, in their 
turn, communicated them to the whole ship’s company, 
in fact, it was the eaptain alone who gave the orders, and 
that every one was equally obliged to obey. Indeed, as 
the captain himself had to obey the orders of his superiors, 
the admiral and the Admiralty, ail on hoard might he said 
to be equally obliged to obey. Captain Wilson laid a strong 
emphasis on the word equally, as he cautiously admin- 
istered his first dose; indeed, in the whole of his address, 
he made use of special pleading, which would have done 
credit t© the bar; for at the same time that he was ex- 
plaining to Jack that he was entering a service in which 
equality could never for a moment exist, if the service was 
to exist, he contrived to show that all the grades were 
leveled, by all being equally bound to do their duty to 
their country, and that, in fact, whether a seaman obeyed 
/us orders, or he obeyed the orders of his superior officer, 
they were in reality only obeying the orders of the coun- 
try, which were administered through their channels. 

Jack did not altogether like this view of the 
subject, and the captain took care not to dwell too 
long upon it. He then entered upon other details 
which he was aware would be more agreeable to Jack. 
He pointed out that the articles of war were the rules 
by which the service was to be guided, and that 
everybody, from the captain to the least boy in the 
ship, was equally bound to adhere to them — that a 
certain allowance of provisions and wine were allowed to 
each person on board, and that this allowance was the 
same to all; the same to the captain as to the boy; the 
same in quantity as in quality; everyone equally entitled 
to his allowance; that, although there were, of necessity, 
various grades necessary in the service, and the captain’s 
orders were obliged to be passed and obeyed by all, yet 
still, whatever was the grade of the officer, they were 


equally considered as gentlemen. In short, Captain 
Wilson, who told the truth, and nothing but the truth, 
.without telling the whole truth, actually made Jack fancy 
that he had at last found out that equality he had been 
Peking for in vain on shore, when, at last, he recollected 


50 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


the language used by Mr. Sawbridge the evening before, 
and asked the captain why that personage had so con- 
ducted himself. Now, as the language of Mr. Sawbridge 
was very much at variance with equality, Captain Wilson 
was not a little puzzled. However, he first pointed out 
that the first lieutenant was, at the time being, the cap- 
tain, as he was the senior officer on board, as would Jack 
himself be if he were the senior officer on board ; and 
that, as he before observed, the captain or senior officer 
represented the country. That in the articles of war, 
everybody who absented himself from the ship commit- 
ted an error, or breach of those articles; and if any error 
or breach of those articles was committed by any one be- 
longing to the ship, if the senior officer did not take 
notice of it, he then himself committed a breach of those 
articles, and was liable himself to be punished, if he could 
not prove that he had noticed it; it was therefore to save 
himself that he was obliged to point out the error; and if 
he did it in strong language, it only proved his zeal for 
his country. 

“Upon my honor, then,” replied Jack, “there can be 
no doubt of his zeal; for if the whole country had been at 
stake, he could not have put himself in a greater passion.” 

“Then he did his duty; but depend upon it, it was not 
a pleasant one to him ; and IT1 answer for it, when you 
meet him on board, he will be as friendly with you as if 
nothing had happened.” 

“He told me that he’d soon make me know what a first 
lieutenant was: what did he mean by that?” inquired 
Jack. 

“All zeal.” 

“Yes, but he said that as soon as he got on board, he’d 
show me the difference between a first lieutenant and a 
midshipman.” 

“All zeal.” 

“He said my ignorance should be a little enlightened 
by and by.” 

“All zeal.” 

“And that he’d send a sergeant and marines to fetch 
me.” 

“All zeal.” 

“That he would put my philosophy to the proof.” 

“All zeal, Mr. Easy. Zeal will break out in this way; 


Mn. midshipman bast. 


51 


bnt we should do nothing in the service without it. Kec- 
ollect that I hope and trust one day to see you also a zeal- 
ous officer.” 

Here Jack cogitated considerably, and gave no answer. 

4 ‘You will, I am sure,” continued Captain Wilson, 
“find Mr. Sawbridge one of your best friends.” 

“Perhaps so,” replied Jack; “but I did not much ad- 
mire our first acquaintance.” 

“It will perhaps be your unpleasant duty to find as 
much fault yourself ; we are all equally bound to do our 
duty to our country. But, Mr. Easy, I sent for you to say 
that we shall sail to-morrow; and, as I shall send my 
things off this afternoon by the launch, you had better 
send yours off also. At eight o’clock I shall go on board, 
and we can both go in the same boat.” 

To this Jack made no sort of objection, and having 
paid his bill at the Fountain, he sent his chest down to 
the boat by some of the crew who came up for it, and at- 
tended the summons of the captain to embark. By nine 
o’clock that evening Mr. Jack Easy was safe on board his 
majesty’s sloop Harpy. 

"When Jack arrived on board it was dark, and he did 
not know what to do with himself. The captain was re- 
ceived by the officers on deck, who took off their hats to 
salute him. The captain returned the salute, and so did 
Jack very politely, after which the captain entered into 
conversation with the first lieutenant, and for awhile 
Jack was left to himself. It was too dark to distinguish 
faces, and to one who had never been on board of a ship, 
too dark to move, so Jack stood where he was, which was 
not far from the main bitts, but he did not stay long; the 
boat had been hooked on to the quarter davits, and the 
boatswain had called out: 

“Set taut, my lads!” 

And then, with the shrill whistle, and “Away with 
her!” forward came galloping and bounding along the 
men with the tackles; and in the dark Jack was upset, 
and half a dozen marines fell upon him; the men, who 
had no idea that an officer was floored among the others, 
were pleased at the joke, and continued to dance over 
those who were down, until they rolled themselves out of 
the way. Jack, who did not understand this, fared badly, 
and it was not until the calls piped belay, that he could 


MR midshipmam east. 


62 

recover his legs, after having been trampled upon by half 
the starboard watch, and the breath completely jammed 
out of his body. Jack reeled to a carronade slide, when 
the officers, who had been laughing at the lark as well as 
the men, perceived his situation — among others, Mr. Saw- 
bridge, the first lieutenant. 

) “Are you hurt, Mr. Easy?” said he kindly. 

“A little,” replied Jack, catching his breath. 

“You’ve had but a rough welcome,” replied the first 
lieutenant, “but at certain times on board ship it is every 
man for himself and God for us all. Harpur,” continued 
the first lieutenant to the doctor, “take Mr. Easy down 
in the gun-room with you, and I will be down myself as 
soon as I can. Where is Mr. Jollitfe?” 

“Here, sir,” replied Mr. Jollitfe, a master’s mate, com- 
ing aft from the booms. 

“There is a youngster come on board with the captain. 
Order one of the quartermasters to get a hammock slung.” 

In the mean time Jack went down into the gun-room, 
where a glass of wine somewhat recovered him. He did 
not stay there long, nor did he venture to talk much. As 
soon as his hammock was ready, Jack was glad to go to 
bed — and as he was much bruised he was not disturbed 
the next morning till past nine o’clock. He then dressed 
himself, went on deck, found that the sloop was just clear 
of the Needles, that he felt very queer, then very sick, 
and was conducted by a marine down below, put into his 
hammock, where he remained during a gale of wind of 
three days, bewildered, confused, puzzled, and every 
minute knocking his head against the beams with the 
pitching and tossing of the sloop. 

“And this is going to sea,” thought Jack; “no wonder 
tbhat no one interferes with another here, or talks about a 
trespass; for I’m sure any one is welcome to my tshare of 
the ocean; and if I once get on shore again, the de vil may 
have my portion if he chooses.” 

Captain Wilson and Mr. Sawbridge had both allowed 
Jack more leisure than most midshipmen, during his ill- 
ness. By the time the gale was over the sloop was off 
Cape Einisterre. The next morning the sea was nearly 
down, and there was but a slight breeze on the waters. 
The comparative quiet of the night before had very much 
recovered our hero, and when the hammocks were piped 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


53 


tip, he was accosted by Mr. Jolliffe, the master’s mate, 
who asked “whether he intended to ronse and bit, or 
whether he intended to sail Gibraltar between his 
blankets.” 

Jack, who felt himself quite another person, turned out 
of his hammock and dressed himself. A marine had, by 
the captain’s orders, attended Jack during his illness, and 
this man came to his assistance, opened his chest, and 
brought him all which he required, or Jack would have 
been in a sad dilemma. 

Jack then inquired where he was to go, for he had not 
yet been in the midshipman’s berth, although five days 
on board. The marine pointed it out to him, and Jack, 
who felt excessively hungry, crawled over and between 
chests, until he found himself fairly in a hole infinitely 
inferior to the dog-kennels which received his father’s 
pointers. 

“I’d not only give up the ocean,” thought Jack, “and 
my share of it, but also my share of the Harpy, unto any 
one who fancies it. Equality enough here ! for every one 
appears equally miserably oif.” 

As he thus gave vent to his thoughts he perceived that 
there was another person in the berth — Mr. Jolliffe, the 
master’s mate, who had fixed his eye upon Jack, and to 
whom Jack returned the compliment. The first thing 
that Jack observed was, that Mr. Jolliffe was very deeply 
pockmarked, and that he had but one eye, and that was a 
piercer; it appeared like a little ball of fire, and as if it re- 
flected more light from the solitary candle than the can- 
dle gave. 

“I don’t like your looks,” thought Jack; “we shall 
never be friends.” 

But here Jack fell into the common error of judging by 
appearances, as will be proved hereafter. 

“I’m glad to see you up again, youngster,” said Jolliffe; 
“you’ve been on your beam ends longer than usual, but 
those who are strongest suffer most — you made your mind 
up but late to come to sea. However, they say, ‘Better 
late than never.’ ” 

“I feel very much inclined to argue the truth of that 
saying,” replied Jack; “but it’s no use just now. I’m 
terribly hungry — when shall I get some breakfast?” 

“To-morrow morning at half -past eight,” replied Mr. 


54 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


Jolliffe. “ Breakfast for to-day has been over these twd 
hours. ,, 

“But must I then go without?” 

“No, I do not say that, as we must make allowances for 
your illness; hut it will not he breakfast.” 

“Call it what you please,” replied Jack, “only pray de- 
sire the servants to give me something to eat. Dry toast 
or muffins — anything will do, but I should prefer coffee.” 

“You forget that you are off Finisterre, in a midship- 
man’s berth ; coffee we have none — muffins we never see 
— dry toast cannot be made, as we have no soft bread ; but 
a cup of tea, and ship’s biscuit and butter, I can desire 
the steward to get ready for you.” 

“Well, then,” replied Jack, “I will thank you to pro- 
cure me that.” 

“Marine,” cried Jolliffe, “call Mesty.” 

“Pass the word for Mesty,” cried the marine — and the 
two syllables were handed forward until lost in the fore- 
part of the vessel. 

The person so named must be introduced to the reader. 
He was a curious anomaly — a black man who had been 
brought to America as a slave, and there sold. 

He was a very tall, spare-built, yet muscular form, and 
had a face by no means common with his race. His head 
was long and narrow, high cheek-bones from whence his 
face descended down to almost a point at the chin ; his 
nose was very small, but it was straight, and almost 
Roman; his mouth also was unusually small, and his lips 
thin for an African ; his teeth very white, and filed to 
sharp points. He claimed the rank of prince in his own 
country, with what truth could not of course be substan- 
tiated. His master had settled at New York, and there 
Mesty had learned English, if it could be so called : the 
fact is, that all the emigrant laborers at New York being 
Irishmen, he had learned English with the strong brogue 
'and peculiar phraseology of the sister kingdom, dashed 
with a little Yankeeism. 

Haring been told that there was no slavery in England, 
Mesty had concealed himself on board an English mer- 
chant vessel and escaped. On his arrival in England he 
had entered on board of a man-of-war. Having no name, 
it was necessary to christen him on the ship’s books, and 
the first lieutenant, who had entered him, struck with 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


55 

his remarkable expression of countenance, and being a 
German scholar, had named him Mephistopheles Faust, 
from whence his Christian name had been razeed to 
Mesty. Mesty in other points was an eccentric character; 
at one moment, when he remembered his lineage, he was 
proud to excess, at others he was grave and almost sullen 
— but when nothing either in daily occurrences or in hisj 
mind ran contrary, he exhibited the drollery so often 
found in his nation, with a spice of Irish humor, as if he 
had caught up the latter with his Irish brogue. 

Mesty was soon seen coming aft, but almost double as 
he crouched under the beams, and taking large strides with 
his naked feet. 

“By the powers, Massa Yollitfe, but it is not seasonable 
at all to send for me just now, anyhow, seeing how the 
praters are in the copper and so many blackguard Spal- 
peens all ready to change net for net, and better them- 
selves by the same mistake, ‘dam um.’ ” 

“Mesty? y°u know I never send for you myself, or allow 
others to do so, unless it is necessary/’ replied Jolliffe; 
“but this poor lad has eaten nothing since he has been on 
board and is very hungry — you must get him a little tea.” 

“Is it tay you mane, sir? I guess, to make tay, in the 
first place I mjust ab water, and in the next must ab room 
in the galley to put the kettle on — and ’pose you wanted 
to burn the tip of your little finger just now, it’s not in the 
galley that you find a berth for it — and den the water be- 
fore seven bells. Fve a notion it’s just impassible.” 

“But he must have something, Mesty.” 

“Never mind the tea then,” replied Jack, “I’lb take 
some milk.” > 

“Is it milk massa manes, and the bumboat woman on 
the oder side of the bay?” 

“We have no milk, Mr. Easy; you forget that we are 
on blue water,” replied Jolliffe, “and I really am afraid 
that you’ll have to wait till dinner-time. Mesty tells the 
truth.” 

“I tell you what, Massa Yolliffe, it just seven bells, 
and if the young gentleman would instead of tay try a 
little out of the copper, it might keep him asy. It but a 
little difference, tay soup and pay soup. Now a bowl of 
that, with some nuts and a flourish of pepper, will do him 
good, anyhow.” 


56 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


1 ‘Perhaps the best thing he can take, Mesty; get it as 
fast as you can.” 

In a few minutes the black brought down a bowl of 
soup and whole peas swimming in it, put before our hero 
a tin bread-basket full of small biscuit, called midship- 
men’s nuts, and the pepper-castor. Jack’s visions of tea, 
coffee, muffins, dry toast, and milk vanished as he per- 
ceived the mess; but he was very hungry, and he found it 
much better than he expected; and he moreover found 
himself much the better after he had swallowed it. It 
struck seven bells, and he accompanied Mr. Jolliffe on 
deck. 


CHAPTER X. 

SHOWING HOW JACK TRANSGRESSES AGAINST HIS OWN 
PHILOSOPHY. 

When Jack Easy had gained the deck he found the sun 
shining gayly, a soft air blowing from the shore, and the 
whole of the rigging and every part of the ship loaded 
with the shirts, trousers, and jackets of the seamen, which 
had been wetted during the heavy gale, and were now 
hanging up to dry; all the wet sails were also spread on 
the booms or triced up in the rigging, and the ship was 
slowly forging through the blue water. The captain and 
first lieutenant were standing on the gangway in converse, 
and the majority of the officers were with their quadrants 
and sextants ascertaining the latitude at noon. The decks 
were white and clean, the sweepers had just laid by their 
brooms, and the men were busy coiling down the ropes. 
It was a scene of cheerfulness, activity, and order, which 
lightened his heart after the four days of suffering, close 
air, and confinement, from which he had just emerged. 

The captain, who perceived him, beckoned to him, 
asked him kindly how he felt, the first lieutenant also 
smiled upon him, and many of the officers, as well as his 
messmates, congratulated him upon his recovery. 

The captain’s steward came up to him, touched his hat, 
and requested the pleasure of his company to dinner in 
the cabin. Jack was the essence of politeness, took off 
his hat, and accepted the invitation. Jack was standing 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


51 


on a rope which a seaman was coiling down ; the man 
touched his hat and requested he would be so kind as to 
take his foot olf. Jack took his hat off his head in re- 
turn, and his foot otf the rope. The master touched his 
hat and reported twelve o’clock to the first lieutenant— 
the first lieutenant touched his hat and reported twelve 
o’clock to the captain — the captain touched his hat and 
told the first lieutenant to make it so. The officer of 
the watch touched his hat and asked the captain whether 
they should pipe to dinner — the captain touched his hat 
and said, “If you please.” 

The midshipman received his orders, and touched his 
hat, which he gave to the head boatswain’s mate, who 
touched his hat, and then the calls whistled cheerily. 

“Well,” thought Jack, “politeness seems to be the 
order of the day, and every one has an equal respect for 
the other.” Jack stayed on deck; he peeped through the 
ports, which were open, and looked down into the deep 
blue waves; he cast his eye's aloft, and watched the tall 
spars sweeping and tracing with their points, as it were, 
a small portion of the clear sky, as they acted in obedience 
to the motion of the vessel; he looked forward at the 
range of carronades which lined the sides of the deck, and 
then he proceeded to climb one of the carronades, and 
lean over the hammocks to gaze on the distant land. 

“Young gentleman, get off those hammocks,” cried 
the master, who was officer of the watch, in a surly tone. 

Jack looked round. 

“Do you hear me, sir? I’m speaking to you,” said the 
master again. 

Jack felt very indignant, and he thought that polite- 
ness was not quite so general as he supposed. 

It happened that Captain Wilson was upon deck. 

“Come here, Mr. Easy,” said the captain; “it is a rule 
in the service, that no one gets on the hammocks unless 
in case of emergency — I never do — nor the first lieutenant 
— nor any of the officers or men — therefore, upon the 
principle of equality, you must not do it either.” 

“Certainly not, sir,” replied Jack, “but still I do not 
see why that officer in the shining hat should be so angry, 
and not speak to me as if I were a gentleman as well as 
himself.” 

“I have already explained that to you, Mr. Easy.” 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN HAS?. 




“Oh, yes, I recollect now, it’s zeal; but this zeal ap- 
pears to me to be the only unpleasant thing in the service. 
It’s a pity, as you said, that the service cannot do without 
it.” 

Captain Wilson laughed, and walked away, and shortly 
afterward, as he turned up and down the deck with the 
master, he hinted to him that he should not speak so 1 
sharply to a lad who had committed such a trifling error , 
through ignorance. Now Mr. Smallsole, the master, avIio j 
was a surly sort of a personage, and did not like even a hint 
of disapprobation of his conduct, although very regardless 
of the feeling of others, determined to pay this off on .! 
Jack the very first convenient opportunity. Jack dined 
in the cabin, and was very much pleased to find that every 
one drank wine with him, and that everybody at the cap- 
tain’s table appeared to be on an equality. Before the 
dessert had been on the table five minutes, Jack became 
loquacious on his favorite topic; all the company stared 
with surprise at such an unheard-of doctrine being 
broached on board of a man-of-war; the captain argued 
the point, so as to controvert, without too much offending, 
Jack’s notions, laughing the whole time that the conver- 
sation was carried on. 

It will be observed that this day may be consid- 
ered as the first in which Jack really made his appear- 
ance on board, and it also was on this first day that 
Jack made known, at the captain’s table, his very 
peculiar notions. If the company at the captain’s table, 
which consisted of the second lieutenant, purser, Mr. 
Jolliffe, and one of the midshipmen, were astonished at 
such heterodox opinions being started in the presence of 
the captain, they were equally astonished at the cool, 
good-humored ridicule with which they were received by 
Captain Wilson. The report of Jack’s boldness, and 
every word and opinion that he had uttered (of course 
much magnified), was circulated that evening through 
the whole ship ; it was canvassed in the gun-room by the 
officers, it was descanted upon by the midshipmen as they 
walked the deck; the captain’s steward held a levee 
abreast of the ship’s funnel, in which he narrated this 
new doctrine. The sergeant of marines gave his opinion, 
in his berth, that it was damnable. The boatswain talked 
pver the matter with the other warrant officers, till the 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


59 


grog was all gone, and then dismissed it as too dry a sub- 
ject; and it was the general opinion of the ship’s com- 
pany that as soon as they arrived at Gibraltar Bay, our 
hero would bid adieu to the service, either by being sen- 
tenced to death by a court-martial, or by being dismissed, 
and towed on shore on a grating. Others, who had more 
of the wisdom of the serpent, and who had been informed 
by Mr. Sawbridge that our hero was a lad who would in- 
herit a large property, argued differently, and considered 
that Captain Wilson had very good reason for being so 
lenient — and among them was the second lieutenant. 
There were but four who were well ihclined toward Jack 
— to wit, the captain, the first lieutenant, Mr. JollifCe, 
the one-eyed master’s mate, and Mephistopheles, the 
black, who, having heard that Jack had uttered such sen- 
timents, loved him with all his heart and soul. 

We have referred to the second lieutenant, Mr. Asper. 
This young man had a very high respect for birth, and 
particularly for money, of which he had very little. He 
was the son of an eminent merchant who, during the time 
that he was a midshipman, had allowed him a much larger 
sum for his expenses than was necessary or proper; and 
during his career he found that his full pocket procured 
him consequence, not only among his own messmates, but 
also with many of the officers of the ships that he sailed 
in. A man who is able and willing to pay a large tavern 
bill will always find followers — that is, to the tavern ; and 
lieutenants did not disdain to dine, walk arm-in-arm, and 
be “hail fellow well met” with a midshipman, at whose 
expense they lived during the time they were on shore. 
Mr. Asper had just received his commission and appoint- 
ment, when his father became a bankrupt, and the foun- 
tain was dried up from which he had drawn such liberal 
supplies. Since that, Mr. Asper had felt that his conse- 
quence was gone: he could no longer talk about the serv- 
ice being a bore, or that he should give it up; he could 
no longer obtain that deference paid to his purse, and not 
to himself; and he had contracted very expensive habits, 
without having any longer the means of gratifying them. 
It was therefore no wonder that he imbibed a great re- 
spect for money; and, as he could no longer find the 
means himself, he was glad to pick up anybody else at 
whose cost he could Indulge in that extravagance and ex- 


60 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


pense to which he had been so long accustomed, and still 
sighed for. Now, Mr. Asper knew that our hero was well 
supplied with money, as he had obtained from the waiter 
the amount of the bill paid at the Fountain, and he had 
been waiting for Jack’s appearance on deck to become his 
very dearest and most intimate friend. The conversation 
in the cabin made him feel assured that Jack would re- 
quire and be grateful for support, and he had taken the 
opportunity of a walk with Mr. Sawbridge, to offer to 
take Jack in his watch. Whether it was that Mr. Saw- 
bridge saw through the design of Mr. Asper, or whether 
he imagined that our hero would be better pleased with . 
him than with the maste*r, considering his harshness of 
deportment; or with himself, who could not, as first lieu- ! 
tenant, overlook any remission of duty, the offer was ac- { 
cepted, and Jack Easy was ordered, as he now entered | 
upon his duties, to keep watch under Lieutenant Asper. 

But not only was this the first day that Jack may be 
said to have appeared in the service, but it was the first I 
day in which he had entered the midshipman’s berth, j 
and was made acquainted with his messmates. 

We have already mentioned Mr. Jolliffe, the master’s 
mate; but we must introduce him more particularly. ' 
Nature is sometimes extremely arbitrary, and never did 
she show herself more so 'than in insisting that Mr. Jolliffe 
should have the most sinister expression of countenance 
that ever had been looked upon. 

He had suffered martyrdom with the small-pox, which 
probably had contracted his lineaments; his face was not 
only deeply pitted, but scarred with this cruel disorder. 
One eye had been lost and all eyebrows had disappeared; 
and the contrast between the dull, sightless, opaque orb 
on one side of his face, and the brilliant, piercing little 
. ball on the other, was almost terrifying. His nose had 
been eaten away by the disease till it formed a sharp but 
irregular point; part of the muscles of the chin were con- 
tracted, and it was drawn in with unnatural seams and 
puckers. He was tall, gaunt, and thin, seldom smiled, 
and when he did, the smile produced a still further distor- 
tion. 

Mr. Jolliffe was the son of a warrant officer. He did 
not contract this disease until he had been sent out to the 
West Indies, where it swept away hundreds. He had now 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


61 


been long in the service, with little or no chance of pro- 
motion. He had suffered from indigence, from reflections 
upon his humble birth, from sarcasms on his appearance. 
Every contumely had been heaped upon him at one time 
or another, in the ships in which he served; among a 
crowd he had found himself desolate; and now, although 
no one dared treat him to his face with disrespect, he 
was only respected in the service from a knowledge of his 
utility and exemplary performance of his duties — he had 
no friends or even companions. For many years he had 
retired within himself ; he had improved by reading and 
study, had felt all the philanthropy of a Christian, and 
extended it toward others. Silent and reserved, he sel- 
dom spoke in the berth, unless his authority as caterer 
was called for; all respected Mr. Jolliffe, but no one 
liked, as a companion, one at whose appearajice the 
very dogs would bark. At the same time every one ac- 
knowledged his correct behavior in every point, his sense 
of justice, his forbearance, his’ kindness, and his good 
sense. With him life was indeed a pilgrimage, and he 
wended his way in all Christian charity and all Christian 
zeal. 

In all societies, however small they may be, provided 
that they do but amount to half a dozen, you will invari- 
ably meet with a bully. And it is also generally the case 
that you will find one of that society who is more or less 
the butt. You will discover this even in occasional meet- 
ings, such as a dinner-party, the major part of which have 
never met before. 

Previous to the removal of the cloth the bully will have 
shown himself by his dictatorial manner, and will also 
have selected the one upon whom he imagines that he can 
best practice. In a midshipman’s berth this fact has be- 
come almost proverbial, although now perhaps it is not 
attended with that disagreeable despotism which was per- 
mitted at the time that our hero entered the service. 

The bully of the midshipman’s berth of H. M. sloop 
Harpy was a young man about seventeen, with light 
curly hair, and florid countenance, the son of the clerk in 
the dockyard at Plymouth, and his name was Vigors. 

The butt was a pudding-faced Tartar-physiognomied 
boy of fifteen, whose intellects with fostering, if not great, 
might at least have been respectable, had he not lost all 


52 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 




confidence in his own powers from the constant jeers and 
mockeries of those who had a greater fluency of speech 
without perhaps so much real power of mind. Although 
slow, what he learned he invariably retained. This lad’s 
name was Gosset. His father was a wealthy yeoman of 
Lynn, in Norfolk. There were at the time but three 
other midshipmen in the ship, of whom it can only be 
said that they were like midshipmen in general, with lit- 
tle appetite for learning, but good appetites for dinner, 
hating everything like work, fond of everything like fun, 
fighting a Voutrance one minute, and sworn friends the 
next; with general principles of honor and justice, but 
which were occasionally warped according to circum- 
stances; with all the virtues and vices so heterogeneously 
jumbled and heaped together that it was almost impossi- 
ble to ascribe any action to its true motive, and to ascer- 
tain to what point their vice was softened down into almost 
a virtue, and their virtues from mere excess degenerated 
into vice. Their names were O’Connor, Mills, and Gas- 
coigne. The other shipmates of our hero it will be bet- 
ter to introduce as they appear on 'the stage. 

After Jack had dined in the cabin he followed his mess- 
mates, Jolliffe and Gascoigne, down into the midship- 
man’s berth. 

“I say, Easy,” observed Gascoigne, “you are a devilish 
free-and-easy sort of a fellow, to tell the captain that you 
considered yourself as great a man as he was.” 

“I beg your pardon,” replied Jack, “I did not argue 
individually, but generally, upon the principles of the 
rights of man.” 

“Well,” replied Gascoigne, “it’s the first time I ever 
heard a middy do such a bold thing; take care your rights 
of man don’t get you in the wrong box — there’s no argu- 
ing on board of a man-of-war. The captain took it amaz- 
ingly easy, but you’d better not broach that subject too 
often.” 

“Gascoigne gives you very good advice, Mr. Easy,” 
observed Jolliffe; “allowing that your ideas are correct, 
which it appears to me they are not, or at least impossible 
to be acted upon, there is such a thing as prudence, and 
however much this question may be canvassed on shore, 
in his majesty’s service it is not only dangerous in itself, 
but will be very prejudicial to you,” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


63 


“Man is a free agent,” replied Easy. 

“I’ll be shot if a midshipman is,” replied Gascoigne, 
laughing, “and that you’ll soon find.” 

“And yet it was with the expectation of finding that 
equality that I was induced to come to sea.” 

“On the first of April, I presume,” replied Gascoigne. 
“But are you really serious?” 

Hereupon Jack entered into a long argument, to which 
Jolliffe and Gascoigne listened without interruption, and 
Mesty with admiration; at the end of it Gascoigne 
laughed heartily, and Jolliffe sighed. 

“From whence did you learn all this?” inquired 
Jolliffe. 

“From my father, who is a great philosopher, and has 
constantly upheld these opinions.” 

“And did your father wish you to go to sea?” 

“No, he was opposed to it,” replied Jack, “but of 
course he could not combat my rights and free will.’ 

“Mr. Easy, as a friend,” replied Jolliffe, “I request 
that you would as much as possible keep your opinions to 
yourself. I shall have an opportunity of talking to you 
on the subject, and will then explain to you my reasons.” 

As soon as Mr. Jolliffe had ceased down came Mr. 
Vigors and O’Connor, who had heard the news of Jack’s 
Jieresy. 

“You do not know Mr. Vigors and Mr. O’Connor,” 
said Jolliffe to Easy. 

Jack, who was the essence of politeness, rose and bowed, 
at which the others took their seats without returning the 
salutation. Vigors had, from what he had heard and now 
seen of Easy, thought he had somebody else to play upon, 
and without ceremony he commenced: 

“So, my chap, you are come on board to raise a mutiny 
here with your equality — you came off scot-free at the 
captain’s table; but it won’t do, I can tell you, even in 
the midshipman’s berth: some must knock under, and 
you are one of them.” 

“If, sir,” replied Easy, “you mean by knock under 
that I must submit, I can assure you that you are mis- 
taken. Upon the same principle that I would never play 
the tyrant to those weaker than myself, so will I resent 
oppression if attempted.” 

“Damme, but he’s a regular sea lawyer already; how- 
ever* my boy, we’ll soon put your metal to the proof.” 


64 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


w Am I then to infer that I am not on an equality with 
my messmates?” replied Jack, looking at Jolliffe. The 
latter was about to answer him, but Vigors interrupted. 

“Yes, you are on an equality as far as this, that you 
have an equal right to the berth, if you are not knocked, 
out of it for insolence to your masters; that you have an 
equal share to pay for the things purchased for the mess, 
and an equal right to have your share, provided you can get 
it; you have an equal right to talk, provided you are not told 
to hold your tongue. The fact is, you have an equal right 
with every one else to do as you can, get what you can, 
and say what you can, always provided that you can do 
it; for here the weakest goes to the wall, and that is mid- 
shipman’s berth equality. Now, do you understand all 
that, or will you wait for a practical illustration?” 

“I am then to infer that the equality here is as much 
destroyed as it even will be among savages, where the 
strong oppress the weak, and the only law is club law — in 
fact, much the same as it is at a public or large school on 
shore?” 

“I suspect you are right for once. You were at a pub- 
lic school; how did they treat you there?” 

“As you propose treating people here, ‘the weakest 
went to the wall.’ ” 

“Well, then, a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse; 
that’s all, my hearty,” said Vigors. 

But the hands being turned up, “Shorten sail” put an 
end to the altercation for the present. 

As our hero had not yet received orders to go to his 
duty, he remained below with Mesty. 

“By de powers, Massa Easy, but I lub you with my 
’hole soul,” said Mesty. “By Jasus, you really tark fine, 
Massa Easy; dat Mr. Vigor — nebber care for him, 
wouldn’t you lik him — and sure you would,” continued 
the black, feeling the muscle of Jack’s arm. “By the 
soul of my fader, I’d bet my week’s allowance on you, 
anyhow. Nebber be ’f raid, Massa Easy.” 

“I am not afraid,” replied Jack; “I’ve thrashed bigger 
fellows than he;” and Jack’s assertion was true. Mr. 
Bonny castle never interfered in a fair fight, and took no 
notice of black eyes, provided the lessons were well said. 
Jack had fought and fought again, until he was a very 
good bruiser, and although not so tall as Vigors, he was 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


6S 


much better built for fighting. A knowing Westminster 
boy would have bet his half-crown upon Jack, had he 
seen him and his anticipated adversary. 

The constant battles which Jack was obliged to fight at 
school had been brought forward by Jack against his 
father’s arguments in favor of equality, but they had been 
overruled by Mr. Easy’s pointing out that the combats of 
boys had nothing to do with the rights of man. 

As soon as the watch was called, Vigors, O’Connor, 
Gossett, and Gascoigne came down into the berth. 
Vigors, who was the strongest in the berth, except Jol- 
liffe, had successively had his superiority acknowledged, 
and, when on deck, he had talked of Easy’s impertinence, 
and his intention of bringing him to his senses. The 
others, therefore, came down to see the fun. 

“Well, Mr. Easy,” observed Vigors as he came into 
the berth, “you take after your name, at all events; I 
suppose you intend to eat the king’s provision, and do 
nothing.” 

Jack’s mettle was already up. 

“You will oblige me, sir, by minding your own busi- 
ness,” replied Jack. 

“You impudent blackguard, if you say another word, 
I’ll give you a good thrashing, and knock some of your 
equality out of you.” 

“Indeed,” replied Jack, who almost fancied himself 
back at Mr. Bonny castle’s; “we’ll try that.” 

Whereupon Jack very coolly divested himself of his 
upper garments, neckerchief, and shirt, much to the sur- 
prise of Mr. Vigors, who little contemplated such a proof 
of decision and confidence, and still more to the delight 
of the other midshipmen, who would have forfeited a 
week’s allowance to see Vigors well thrashed. Vigors, 
however, knew that he had gone too far to retreat ; he 
therefore prepared for action; and, when ready, the whole 
party went out into the steerage to settle the business. 

Vigors had gained his assumed authority more by bully- 
ing than fighting; others had submitted to him without 
sufficient trial; Jack, on the contrary, had won his way 
up in school by hard and scientific combat: the result, 
therefore, may easily be imagined. In less than a quarter 
of an hour Vigors, beaten dead, with his eyes closed, and 
three teeth out, gave in; while Jack, after a basin o$ 


66 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


water, looked as fresh as ever, with the exception of a few 
trifling scratches. 

The news of this victory was soon through the ship; and 
before Jack had resumed his clothes, it had been told con- 
fidentially by Sawbridge to the captain. 

“So soon!” said Captain Wilson, laughing; “I expected 
that a midshipman’s berth would do wonders, but I did 
not expect this, yet awhile. This victory is the first 
severe blow to Mr. Easy’s equality, and will be more valu- 
able than twenty defeats. Let him now go to his duty; 
he will soon find his level. ,, 


CHAPTER XL 

IK WHICH OUR HERO PROVES THAT ALL OK BOARD 
SHOULD EQUALLY SACRIFICE DECEKCY TO DUTY. 

The success of any young man in a profession very 
much depends upon the occurrences at the commence- 
ment of his career, as from those is his character judged, 
and he is treated accordingly. Jack had chosen to enter 
the service at a much later period than most lads; he was 
tall and manly for his age, and his countenance, if not 
strictly handsome, wore that expression of honesty and 
boldness which is sure to please. His spirit in not sub- 
mitting to, and meeting Vigors when he had hardly re- 
covered from his severe prostration of sea-sickness, had 
gained him with the many respect, and with all, except 
his antagonist and Mr. Smallsole, good-will. Instead of 
being laughed at by his messmates, he was played with ; 
for Jollifle smiled at his absurdities and attempted to 
reason him out of them, and the others liked Jack for 
himself and his generosity, and, moreover, because they 
looked up to him as a protector against Vigors, who had 
persecuted them all; for Jack had declared that as might 
was right in a midshipman’s berth, he would so far restore 
equality that if he could not put down those who were 
the strongest, at all event* he would protect the weak, 
and, let who would come into the berth, they must be his 
master before they should tyrannize over those weaker 
than he. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


6 ? 


Thus did Jack Easy make the best use that he could of 
his strength, and become, as it were, the champion and 
security of those who, although much longer at sea and 
more experienced than he was, were glad to shelter them- 
selves under his courage and skill, the latter of which had 
excited the admiration of the butcher of the ship, who 
had been a pugilist by profession. Thus did Jack at once 
take the rank of an oldster, and soon became the leader 
of all the mischief. We particularly observe this, because 
had it so happened that our hero had succumbed to Vigors 
the case would have been the very reverse. He then 
would have had to go through the ordeal to which most 
who enter the naval service are exposed, which cannot 
be better explained than by comparing it to the fagging 
carried to such an iniquitous extent in public schools. 

Mr. Asper, for his own reasons, made him his compan- 
ion; they walked the night-watch together, and he lis- 
tened to all Jack’s nonsense about the rights of man. 
And here Mr. Asper did good without intending it, for, 
at the same time that he appeared to agree with Jack, to 
secure his favor, he cautioned him, gnd pointed out why 
this equality could not exist altogether on board of a man- 
of-war. 

As for himself, he said, he saw no difference between 
a lieutenant, or even a captain and a midshipman, pro- 
vided they were gentlemen ; he should choose his friends 
where he liked, and despised that power of annoyance 
which the service permitted. Of course. Jack and Mr. 
Asper were good friends, especially as when the watch was 
over, to conciliate his good-will and to get rid of his eter- 
nal arguing, Mr. Asper would send Jack down to bed. 

They were now entering the Straits and expected to 
anchor the next day at Gibraltar, and Jack was forward 
on the forecastle, talking with Mesty, with whom he had 
contracted a great friendship, for there was nothing that 
Mesty would not have done for Jack, although he had not 
been three weeks in the ship; but a little reflection will 
show that it was natural. 

Mesty had been a great man in his own country; he 
had suffered all the horrors of a passage in a slave-ship ; 
he had been sold as a slave twice; he had escaped, but he 
found that the universal feeling was strong against his 
color, and that on board of a man-of-war he was con- 
demned, although free, to the humblest of offices. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


6B 


He had never heard any one ntter the sentiments, 
which now beat in his own heart, of liberty and equality 
• — we say now , for when he was in his own country before 
his captivity, he had no ideas of equality; no one has who 
is in power: but he had been schooled; and although 
people talked of liberty and equality at New York, he 
found that what they preached for themselves, they did 
not practice toward others, and that, in the midst of lib- 
erty and equality, he and thousands more were enslaved 
and degraded beings. 

Escaping to England, he had regained his liberty, but 
not his equality ; liis color had prevented the latter, and 
in that feeling all the world appeared to conspire together 
against him, until, to his astonishment, he heard those 
sentiments boldly expressed from the lips of Jack, and 
that in a service where it was almost tantamount to 
mutiny. Mesty, whose character is not yet developed, 
immediately took a fondness for our hero, and in a hun- 
dred ways showed his attachment. Jack also liked Mesty, 
and was fond of talking with him, and every evening since 
the combat with Vigors they had generally met in the 
forecastle to discuss the principles of equality and the 
rights of man. 

The boatswain, whose name was Biggs, was a slight, 
dapper, active little man, who, as captain of the foretop, 
had shown an uncommon degree of courage in a hurricane; 
so much so as to recommend him to the admiral for pro- 
motion. It was given to him, and after the ship to which 
he had been appointed was paid olf, he had been ordered 
to join H. M. sloop Harpy. Jack’s conversation with 
Mesty was interrupted by the voice of the boatswain, who 
was haranguing his boy. “It’s now ten minutes, sir, by 
my repeater,” said the boatswain, “that I have sent for 
you;” and Mr. Biggs pulled our a huge silver watch, 
almost as big as a Norfolk turnip. A Jew had sold him 
the watch; the boatswain had heard of repeaters and 
wished to have one. Moses had only shown him watches 
with the hour and minute hands; he now produced one 
with a second hand, telling him it was a repeater. 

“What makes it a repeater?” inquired the boatswain. 

“Common watches,” said the cunning Jew, “only tell 
the minutes and hours; but all repeaters tell the seconds ” 

The boatswain was^ satisfied — bought the watcn, and 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


69 


although many had told him it was no repeater, he in- 
sisted that it was, and would call it so. 

“I swear,” continued the boatswain, “it’s ten minutes 
and twenty seconds by my repeater.” 

“If you please, sir,” said the boy, “I was changing my 
trousers when you sent for me, and then I had to stow 
away my bag again.” 

> “Silence, sir; I’d have you to know that when you are 
' sent for by your officers, trousers or no trousers, it is your 
duty to come up directly.” 

“Without trousers, sir?” replied the boy. 

“Yes, sir, without trousers; if the captain required me, 
I should come without my shirt. Duty before decency.” 
So saying, the boatswain lays hold of the boy. 

“Surely, Mr. Biggs,” said Jack, “you are not going to 
punish that boy for not coming up without his trousers!” 

“Yes, Mr. Easy, I am — I must teach him a lesson. We 
are bound, now that new-fangled ideas are brought into 
the ship, to uphold the dignity of the service; and the 
orders of an officer are not to be delayed ten minutes and 
twenty seconds because a boy has no trousers on.” 
Whereupon the boatswain administered several smart 
cuts with his rattan upon the boy, proving that it was 
quite as well that he had put on his trousers before he 
came on deck. “There,” said Mr. Biggs, “is a lesson 
for you, you scamp — and, Mr. Easy, it is a lesson for you 
also^” continued the boatswain, walking away with a most 
consequential air. 

“Murder Irish!” said Mesty, “how him cut caper. De 
oder day he hawl out de weather earring, and touch him 
hat to a midshipman. Sure enough, make um cat laugh.” 

The next day the Harpy was at anchor in Gibraltar 
Bay; the captain went on shore, directing the gig to be 
sent for him before nine o’clock; after which hour the 
sally-port is only opened by special permission. There 
happened to be a ball given by the officers of the garrison 
on that evening, and a polite invitation was sent to the 
officers of M. H. sloop Harpy. As those who accepted 
the invitation would be detained late, it was not possible 
for them to come off that night. And as their services 
were required for the next day, Captain Wilson allowed 
them to remain on shore until seven o’clock the next 
morning, at which hour, as there was a large party, there 
would be two boats sent for them. 


70 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


Mr. Asper obtained leave, and asked permission to take 
onr hero with him; to which Mr. Sawbridge consented. 
Many other officers obtained leave, and, among others, the 
boatswain, who, aware that his services would be in re- 
quest as soon as the equipment commenced, asked permis- 
sion for this evening. And Mr. Sawbridge, feeling that 
he could be better spared at this than at any other time, 
consented. Asper and Jack went to an inn, dined, be- 
spoke beds, and then dressed themselves for the ball, 
which was very brilliant, and, from the company of the 
officers, very pleasant. Captain Wilson looked on at the 
commencement, and then returned on board. Jack be- 
haved with his usual politeness, danced till two o’clock, 
and then, as the ball thinned, Asper proposed that they 
should retire. Having once more applied to the refresh- 
ment-room, they had procured their hats and were about 
to depart, v hen one of the officers of the garrison asked 
Jack if he would like to see a baboon, which had just 
been brought down from the rock ; and, taking some of 
the cakes, they repaired to the court where the animal 
was chained down to a small tank. Jack fed the brute 
till all the cakes were gone, and then, because he had no 
more to give him, the baboon flew at Jack, who, in mak- 
ing his retreat, fell back into the tank, which was about 
two feet deep. This was a joke; and having laughed 
heartily, they wished the officer good-night, and went to 
the inn. 

Now, what with the number of officers of the Harpy on 
shore, who had all put up at the same inn, and other 
occupants, the landlord was obliged to put his company 
into double and treble bedded rooms, but this was of little 
consequence. Jack was shown into a double-bedded 
room, and proceeded to undress; the other was evidently 
occupied, by the heavy breathing ■which saluted Jack’s 
ear. 

As Jack undressed, he recollected that his trousers 
were wet through, and to dry them he opened the win- 
. dow, hung them out, and then jammed down the window 
again upon them, to hold them in their position, after 
which he turned in and fell fast asleep. At six o’clock 
he was called, as he had requested, and proceeded to 
dress, but to his astonishment found the window thrown 
open and his trousers missing. It was evident that his 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


n 


partner in the room had thrown the window open during 
the night, and that his trousers, having fallen down into 
the street, had been walked off with by somebody or 
another. Jack looked out of the window once more, and 
perceived that whoever had thrown open the window had 
been unwell during the night. “A nice drunken com- 
panion I have had,” thought Jack; “but what’s to be 
done?” And in saying this he walked up to the other 
bed, and perceived that it was tenanted by the boatswain. 
“Well,” thought Jack, “as Mr. Biggs has thought proper 
to lose my trousers, I think I have a right to take his, or 
at least the wear of them to go on board. It was but last 
night he declared that decency must give way to duty, 
and that the orders of a superior officer were to be obeyed, 
with or without garments. I know he is obliged to be on 
board, and now he shall try how he likes to obey orders 
in his shirt-tail.” So cogitating, Jack took the trousers 
of the boatswain, who still snored, although he had been 
called, and, putting them on, completed the rest of his 
dress and quitted the room. He went to that of Mr. 
Asper, where he found him just ready, and having paid 
the bill — for Asper had forgotten his purse — they pro- 
ceeded down to the sally-port, where they found other 
officers waiting, sufficient to load the first boat, which 
shoved off, and they went on board. As soon as he was 
down below Jack hastened to change his trousers, and, 
unobserved by any one, threw those belonging to Mr. 
Biggs on a chair in his cabin, and, having made a confi- 
dant of Mesty, who was delighted, he went on deck, and 
waited the issue of the affair. 

Before Jack left the hotel he had told the waiter that 
there was a boatswain still fast asleep, and that he must 
be roused up immediately; and this injunction was 
obeyed. The boatswain, who had drunk too much the 
night before, and, as Jack had truly imagined, had 
opened the window because he was unwell, was wakened 
up, and, hearing how late it was, hastened to dress him- 
self. Not finding his trousers, he rang the bell, suppos- 
ing that they had been taken down to be brushed, and, in 
the mean time, put on everything else, that he might lose 
no time; the waiter who answered the bell denied having 
taken the trousers out of the room, and poor Mr. Biggs 
was in a sad guandarv. What had become of them, he 


MU MIDSHIPMAN East. 


n 


could not tell: he had no recollection of having gone to 
bed the night before; he inquired of the waiter, who said 
that he knew nothing about them — that he was very tipsy 
when he came home, and that when he called him, he had 
found the window open, and it appeared that he had been 
unwell — he supposed that he had thrown his trousers out 
of the window. Time flew, and the boatswain was in de- 
spair. “Could they lend him a pair?” 

“He would call his master.” 

The master of the inn knew very well the difference of 
rank between officers, and those whom he could trust and 
those whom he could not. He sent up the bill by the 
waiter, and stated that, for a deposit, the gentleman 
might have a pair of trousers. The boatswain felt in his 
pockets and remembered that all his money was in his 
trousers pocket. He could not only not leave a deposit, 
but could not pay his bill. The landlord was inexorable. 
It was bad enough to lose his money, but he could not lose 
more. 

“I shall be tried by a court-martial, by heavens!” ex- 
claimed the boatswain. “It’s not far from the sally-port: 
I’ll make a run for it, and I can slip into one of the boats 
and get another pair of trousers before I report myself as 
having come on board;” so, making up his mind, the 
boatswain took to his heels, and with his check shirt-tail 
streaming in the wind, ran as hard as he could to where 
the boat was waiting to receive him. He was encoun- 
tered by many, but he only ran the faster the more they 
jeered, and at last arrived breathless at his goal, flew 
down the steps, jumped into the boat, and squatted on the 
stern sheets, much to the surprise of the officers and men, 
who thought him mad. He stated in a few words that 
somebody had stolen his trousers during the night; and as 
it was already late, the boat shoved off, the men as well 
as officers convulsed with laughter. 

“Have any of you a pea-jacket?” inquired the boat- 
swain of the men — but the weather was so warm that 
none of them had brought a pea-jacket. The boatswain 
looked round ; he perceived that the officers were sitting 
on a boat-cloak. 

“Whose boat-cloak is that?” inquired the boatswain. 

“Mine,” replied Gascoigne. 

“I trust, Mr. Gascoigne, you will have the kindness to 
lend it to me to go up the side with.” 


Mft. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Indeed I will not,” replied Gascoigne, who would 
sooner have thrown it overboard and have lost it, than 
not beheld the anticipated fun; “recollect, I asked you 
for a fishing-line, when we were becalmed ofi Cape St. 

Vincent, and you sent word that you’d see me d d 

first. Now I’ll just see you the same before you have my 
boat-cloak.” 

“Oh, Mr. Gascoigne, I’ll give you three lines, directly 
/ 1 get on board.” 

“I dare say you will, but that won’t do now. ‘Tit for 
tat,’ Mr. Boatswain, and hang all favors,” replied Gas- 
coigne, who was steering the boat, having been sent on 
shore for the others. “In bow — rowed of all.” The boat 
was laid alongside — the relentless Gascoigne caught up his 
boat-cloak as the other officers rose to go on board, and 
rolling it up, in spite of the earnest entreaties of Mr. 
Biggs, tossed it into the main-chains, to the man who had 
thrown the stern-fast; and to make the situation of Mr. 
Biggs still more deplorable, the first lieutenant was stand- 
ing looking into the boat, and Captain Wilson walking 
the quarter-deck. 

“Come, Mr. Biggs, I expected you off in the first boat,” 
cried Mr. Sawbridge; “be as smart as you please, foi the 
yards are not yet squared.” 

“Shall I go ahead in this boat and square them, sir?” 

“That boat, no; let her drop astern, jump up here and 
lower down the dingey. What the devil do you sit there 
for, Mr. Biggs? You’ll oblige me by showing a little 
more activity, or, by Jove, you may save yourself the 
trouble * of asking to go on shore again. Are you sober, 
sir?” 

The last observation decided Mr. Biggs. He sprang 
up from the boat just as he was, and touched his hat, as 
he passed the first lieutenant. 

“Perfectly sober, sir, but I’ve lost my trousers.” 

“So it appears, sir,” replied Mr. Sawbridge, as Mr. 
Biggs stood on the planeshear of the sloop where the ham- 
mock netting divides for an entrance, with his shirt-tail 
fluttering in the sea breeze; but Mr. Sawbridge could not 
contain himself any longer; he ran down the ship-ladder 
which led on the quarter-deck choked with laughter. 
Mr. Biggs could not descend until after Mr. Sawbrid^ 
ana tne conversation naa attracted the notice ol all, aa« 
every eye in the ship was on him. 


n 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“What’s all this?” said Captain Wilson, coming to 
the gangway. 

“Duty before decency,” replied Jack, who stood by, 
enjoying the joke. 

Mr. Biggs recollected the day before — he cast a furious 
look at Jack as he touched his hat to the captain, and 
then dived down to the lower deck. 

If anything could add to the indignation of the boat- 
swain, it was to find that his trousers had come on board 
before him. He now felt that a trick had been played 
him and also that our hero must have been the party, 
but he could prove nothing; he could not say who slept in 
the same room, for he was fast asleep when Jack went to 
bed, and fast asleep when Jack quitted the room. 

The truth of the story soon became known to all the 
ship, and “duty before decency” became a by-word. All 
that the boatswain could do he did, which was to revenge 
himself upon the poor boy— and Gascoigne and Jack never 
got any fishing-tackle. The boatswain was as obnoxious 
to the men as Vigors, and in consequence of Jack’s known 
opinions upon the rights of man, and his having floored 
their two greatest enemies, he became a great favorite 
with the seamen, and as all favorites are honored by them 
with a sobriquet , our hero obtained that of Equality Jack . 


CHAPTER XII. 

Ilf WHICH OUR HERO PREFERS GOING DOWlf TO GOING 
UP, A CHOICE, IT IS TO BE HOPED, HE WILL RE- 
VERSE UPOlf A MORE IMPORTANT OCCASION. 

'The next day being Sunday, the hands were turned up 
to divisions, and the weather not being favorable, instead 
of the service, the articles of war were read with all due 
respect shown to the same, the captain, officers, and crew 
with their hats off in a mizzling rain. Jack, who had 
been told by the captain that these articles of war were 
the rules and regulations of the service by which the cap- 
tain, officers, and men were equally bound, listened to 
them as they were read by the clerk with the greatest at- 
tention. He little thought that there were about five 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY 


75 


hundred orders from the Admiralty tacked on to them, 
which, like the numerous codicils of some wills, contained 
the most important matter, and to a certain degree make 
the will nugatory. 

Jack listened very attentively, and as each article was 
propounded, felt that he was not likely to commit himself 
in that point, and although he was rather astonished to 
find such a positive injunction against swearing, con- 
sidered quite a dead letter in the ship, he thought that, 
altogether, he saw his way very clear. But to make cer- 
tain of it, as soon as the hands had been piped down he 
begged the clerk to let him have a copy of the articles. 

Now the clerk had three, being the allowance of the 
ship, or at least all that he had in his possession, and 
made some demur at parting with one; but at last he pro- 
posed — “some rascal,” as he said, “having stolen his 
tooth-brush” — that if Jack would give him one he would 
give him one of the copies of the articles of war. Jack 
replied that the one he had in use was very much worn, 
and that unfortunately he had but one new one, which 
he could not spare. Thereupon the clerk, who was a 
very clean personage, and coidd not bear that his teeth 
should be dirty, agreed to accept the one in use, as Jack 
could not part with the other. The exchange was made, and 
Jack read the articles of war over and over again, till he 
thought he was fully master of them. 

“Now,” says Jack, “I know what I am to do and 
what I am to expect, and these articles of war I will 
carry in my pocket as long as I’m in the service; that is 
to say, if they last so long, and provided they do not, I 
am able to replace them with another old tooth-brush, 
which appears to be the value attached to them.” 

The Harpy remained a fortnight in Gibraltar Bay, and 
Jack had occasionally a run on shore, and Mr. Asper in- 
variably went with him to keep him out of mischief; that 
is to say, he allowed him to throw his money away on no- 
body more worthless than himself. 

One morning Jack went down in the berth and found 
young Gossett blubbering. 

“What’s the matter, my dear Mr. Gossett?” inquired 
Jack, who was just as polite to the youngster as he was to 
anybody else. 

“Vigors has been thrashing me with a rope’s end,” re- 
plied Gossett, rubbing his arm and shoulders. 


76 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“What for?” inquired Jack. 

“Because he says the service is going to hell — Fm sure 
it’s no fault of mine — and that now all subordination is 
destroyed, and that upstarts join the ship, who, because 
they have a five-pound note in their pocket, are allowed 
to do just as they please. He said he was determined to 
uphold the service, and then he knocked me down— -and 
when I got up again he told me that I could stand a little 
more — and then he took out his colt, and said he was de- 
termined to ride the high horse-— and that there should be 
no Equality Jack in future.” 

“Well?” replied Jack. 

“And then he colted me for half an hour, and that’s 
all.” 

“By de soul of my fader, but it all for true, Massa Easy 
— he larrup um, sure enough — all for noteing, bad luck to 
him — I tink,” continued Mesty, “he liab debelish bad 
memory — and he want a little more of Equality Jack.” 

“And he shall have it too,” replied our hero; “why, 
it’s against the articles of war, ‘all quarreling, fighting, 
etc.’ I say, Mr. Gossett, have you got the spirit of a 
louse?” 

“Yes,” replied Gossett. 

“Well, then, will you do what I tell you next time, and 
trust to me for protection?” 

“I don’t care what I do,” replied the boy, “if you will 
back me against the cowardly tyrant!” 

“Do you refer to me?” cried Vigors, who had stopped 
at the door of the berth. 

“Say yes,” said Jack. 

“Yes, Ido,” cried Gossett. 

“You do, do you? Well then, my chick, I must trouble 
you with a little more of this,” said Vigors, drawing out 
his colt. 

“I think you had better not, Mr. Vigors,” observed 
Jack. 

“Mind your own business, if you please,” returned 
Vigors, not much liking the interference. “I am not 
addressing my conversation to you, and I will thank you 
never to interfere with me. I presume I have a right to 
choose my own acquaintance, and depend upon it, it will 
not be that of a leveler.” 

“All that is at your pleasure, Mr. Vigors,” replied 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


77 


Jack; “you have a right to choose your own acquaintance, 
and so have I a right to choose my own friends, and 
further, to support them. That lad is my friend, Mr. 
Vigors.” 

“Then,” replied Vigors, who could not help bullying, 
even at the risk of another combat, which he probably in- 
tended to stand, “I shall take the liberty of giving your 
friend a thrashing. ” And he suited the action to the word. 

“Then I shall take the liberty to defend my friend,” 
replied Jack; “and as you call me a leveler, I’ll try if I 
may not deserve the name.” Whereupon Jack placed a 
blow so well under the ear that Mr. Vigors dropped on 
the deck and was not in condition to come to the scratch, 
even if he had been inclined. “And now, youngster,” 
said Jack, wresting the colt out of Vigors’ hand, “do as 
I bid you — give him a good colting — if you don’t I’ll 
thrash you.” 

Gossett required no second threat — the pleasure of 
thrashing his enemy, if only for once, was quite enough — 
and he laid well on, Jack with his fists doubled ready to 
protect him if there was a show of resistance; but Vigors 
was half -stupefied with the blow under the ear, and quite 
cowed ; and he took his thrashing in the most passive 
manner. 

“That will do,” said Jack; “and now do not be afraid, 
Gossett, the very first time he offers to strike you when I 
am not present, I will pay him off for it as soon as you tell 
me. I won’t be callled Equality Jack for nothing.” 

When Jolliffe, who heard of this, met our hero alone, 
he said to him, “Take my advice, boy, and do not in 
future fight the battles of others; you’ll find very soon 
that you will have enough to do to fight your own.” 

Whereupon Jack argued the point for half an hour, and 
then they separated. But Mr. Jolliffe was right. Jack 
began to find himself constantly in hot w'ater, and the 
captain and first lieutenant, although they did not really 
withdraw their protection, thought it high time that Jack 
should find out that, on board a man-of-war, everybody 
and everything must find its level. 

There was on board of his majesty’s sloop Harpy a man 
of the name of Easthupp, who did the duty of purser’s 
steward ; this was the second ship that he had served in ; 
in the former he had been sent with a draft of men from 


78 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


the Tender, lying off the Tower. How he had come into 
the service was not known in the present ship, but the 
fact was, that he had been one of the swell mob — and had 
been sent on board the Tender with a letter of recommen- 
dation from the magistrates to Captain Crouch. He was 
a cockney by birth, for he had been left at the workhouse 
of St. Mary Axe, where he had been taught to read and 
write, and had afterward made his escape. He joined the 
juvenile thieves of the metropolis, had been sent to Bride- j 
well, obtained his liberty, and by degrees had risen from 
petty thieving of goods exposed outside of the shops and 
market-stalls, to the higher class of gentlemen pick- 
pockets. His appearance was somewhat genteel, with a 
bullying sort of an impudent air, which is mistaken for j 
fashion by those who know no better. A remarkably neat i 
dresser, for that was part of his profession; a very 
plausible manner and address, a great fluency of language, 
although he clipped the king’s English ; and, as he had , 
suffered more than once by the law, it is not to be won- I 
dered at, that he was, as he called himself, a hout-and- 
hout radical. During the latter part of his service in his ! 
last ship, he had been employed under the purser’s 
steward, and having offered himself in this capacity to j 
the purser of H. M. sloop Harpy, with one or two forged j 
certificates, he had been accepted. 

Now, when Mr. Easthupp heard of JacK’s opinion, he , 
wished to cultivate his acquaintance, and with a bow and j 
a flourish, introduced himself before they arrived at Gib- ; 
raltar, but our hero took an immediate dislike to this fel- ] 
low, from his excessive and impertinent familiarity. 

Jack knew a gentleman when he met one, and did not ; 
choose to be a companion to a man beneath him in every i 
way, but who, upon the strength of Jack’s liberal opinions, j 
presumed to be his equal. Jack’s equality did not go so j 
far as that; in theory it was all very well, but in practice ! 
it was only when it suited his own purpose. 

But the purser’s steward was not to be checked — a man 
who has belonged to the swell mob is not easily repulsed;, 
and, although Jack would plainly show him that his com- 
pany was not agreeable, Easthupp would constantly accost 
him familiarly on the forecastle and lower deck, with his 
arms folded, and with an air almost amounting to supe- 
riority. At last Jack told him to go about his business 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


79 


and not to presnme to talk to him, whereupon Easthupp 
rejoined, and after an exchange of hard words, it ended 
by Jack kicking Mr. Easthupp, as he called himself, 
down the after lower-deck hatchway. This was but a 
sorry specimen of Jack’s equality — and Mr. Easthupp, 
who considered that his honor had been compromised, 
went up to the captain on the quarter-deck and lodged 
his complaint — whereupon Captain Wilson desired that 
Mr. Easy might be summoned. 

As soon as Jack made his appearance, Captain Wilson 
called to Easthupp. “Now, purser’s steward, what is this 
you have to say?” 

“If you please, Captain Vilson, I am wery sorry to he 
obliged to make hany complaint of hany hofficer, but this 
Mr. Heasy thought proper to make use of language quite 
hunbecoming of a gentleman, and then to kick me as I 
vent down the atchvay.” 

“Well, Mr. Easy, is this true?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack; “I have several times told 
the fellow not to address himself to me, and he will. I 
did tell him he was a radical blackguard, and I did kick 
him down the hatchway.” 

“You told him he was a radical blackguard, Mr. Easy?” 

“Yes, sir; he comes bothering me about his republic, 
and asserting that we have no want of a king and aris- 
tocracy.” 

Captain Wilson looked significantly at Mr. Sawbridge. 

“I certainly did hoffer my political opinions, Captain 
Yilson, but you must be avare that ve hall ave an hequal 
stake in the country — and it’s a Hinglishman’s birth- 
right.” 

“I’m not aware what your stake in the country may be, 
Mr. Easthupp,” observed Captain Wilson, “but I think 
that if you used such expressions, Mr. Easy was fully war- 
ranted in telling you his opinion.” 

“I ham villing, Captafn Yilson, to make hany hallow- 
ance for the ’eat of political discussion — but that is not 
hall that I ave to complain hof. Mr. Heasy thought 
proper to say that I was a swindler and a liar.” 

“Did you'make use of those expressions, Mr. Easy?” 

“Yes, sir, he did,” continued the steward; “and, more- 
over, told me not to cheax the men, and not to cheat my 
master, the purser. Now, Captain Yilson, is it not true 


80 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


that I am in a wery hostensible sitevation? but I flatter 
myself that I ave been yell edecated, and vos wonce mov- 
ing in a wery different society — misfortains vill appin to 
us hall, and I feel my character has been severely injured 
by such impertations.” Whereupon Mr. Easthupp took 
out his handerkchief, flourished, and blew his nose. “I 
told Mr. Heasy that I considered myself quite as much of a 
gentleman as himself, and at hall hewents did not keep 
company with a black feller (Mr. Heasy will hunderstand 
the insinevation), vereupon Mr. Heasy, as I before said, 
your worship, I mean you, Captain Yilson, thought 
proper to kick me down the atchvay.” 

“ Very well, steward, I have heard your complaint, and 
now you may go.” 

Mr. Easthupp took his hat off with an air, made his 
bow, and went down the main ladder. 

“Mr. Easy,” said Captain Wilson, “you must be aware 
that by the regulations of the service by which we are all 
equally bound it is not permitted that any officer shall 
take the law into his own hands. Now, although I do not 
consider it necessary to make any remark as to your call- 
ing the man a radical blackguard, for I consider his im- 

E ertinent intrusion of his opinions deserved it, still yon 
ave no right to attack any man’s character without 
grounds — and as that man is in an office of trust, you 
were not at all warranted in asserting that he was a cheat. 
Will you explain to me why you made use of such lan- 
guage?” 

Now our hero had no proofs against the man, he had 
nothing to offer in extenuation, until he recollected, all 
at once, the reason assigned by the captain for the lan- 
guage used by Mr. Sawbridge. Jack had the wit to per- 
ceive that it would hit home, so he replied, very quietly 
and respectfully. 

“If you please, Captain Wilson, that was all zeal.” 
“Zeal, Mr. Easy? I think it but a bad excuse. But 
pray, then, why did you kick the man down the hatch- 
way — you must have known that that was contrary to the 
rules of the service.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack demurely, “but that was all 
zeal, too.” 

“Then allow me to say,” replied Captain Wilson, bit- 
ing his lips, “that I think that your zeal has in this in- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


81 


stance been very much misplaced, and I trust yon will not 
show so much again.” 

“And yet, sir,” replied Jack, aware that he was giving 
the captain a hard hit, and therefore looked proportion- 
ately humble, “we should do nothing in the service with- 
out it; and I trust one day, as you told me, to become a 
very zealous officer.” 

“I trust so too, Mr. Easy,” replied the captain. 
“There, you may go now, and let me hear no more of 
kicking people down the hatchway. That sort of zeal is 
misplaced.” 

“More than my foot was, at all events,” muttered Jack, 
as he walked off. 

Captain Wilson, as soon as our hero disappeared, 
laughed heartily, and told Mr. Sawbridge he had ascribed 
his language to our hero as all zeal. “He has very cleverly 
given me it all back again ; and really, Sawbridge, as it 
proves how weak was my defense of you, you may gain 
from this lesson.” 

Sawbridge thought so too; but both agreed that Jack’s 
rights of man were in considerable danger. 

The day before the ship sailed the captain and Mr. 
Asper dined with the governor, and as there was little 
more to do, Mr. Sawbridge, who had not quitted the ship 
since she had been in port, and had some few purchases 
to make, left her in the afternoon in the charge of Mr. 
Smallsole, the master. Now, as we have observed, he 
was Jack’s inveterate enemy — indeed, Jack had already 
made three: Mr. Smallsole, Mr. Biggs, the boatswain, 
and Easthupp, the purser’s steward. Mr. Smallsole was 
glad to be left in command, as he hoped to have an op- 
portunity of punishing our hero, who certainly laid him- 
self not a little open to it. . 

Like all those who are seldom in command, the master 1 
was proportionally tyrannical and abusive; he swore at 
the men, made them do the duty twice and thrice over on 
the pretense that it was not smartly done, and found fault 
with every officer remaining on board. 

“Mr. Biggs — by G — d, sir! you seem to be all asleep 
forward ; I suppose you think that you are to do nothing, 
now the first lieutenant is out of the ship? How long will 
it be, sir, before you are ready to sway away?” 

“By de holy poker! I tink he sway away finely, Massa 


82 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Easy,” observed Mesty, who was in converse with onr 
hero on the forecastle. 

Mr. Smallsole’s violence made Mr. Biggs violent, which 
made the boatswain’s mate violent, and the captain of the 
forecastle violent also; all which is practically exemplified 
by philosophy in the laws of motion, communicated from 
one body to another; and as Mr. Smallsole swore, so did 
the boatswain swear, also the boatswain’s mate, the cap- 
tain of the forecastle, and all the men, showing the force 
of example. 

Mr. Smallsole came forward. “Damnation, Mr. Biggs! 
what the devil are you about? Can’t you move here?” 

“As much as we can, sir,” replied the boatswain, 
“lumbered as the forecastle is with idlers;” and here Mr. 
Biggs looked at our hero and Mesty, who were standing 
against the bulwark. 

“What are you doing here, sir?” cried Mr. Smallsole to 
our hero. 

“Nothing at all, sir,” replied Jack. 

“Then I’ll give you something to do, sir. Go up to 
the mast-head, and wait there till I call you down. Come, 
sir, I’ll show you the way,” continued the master, walk- 
ing aft. Jack followed till they were on the quarter- 
deck. 

“Now, sir, up to the main-topgallant-mast-head; perch 
yourself upon the cross-trees; up with you.” 

“What am I to go up there for, sir?” inquired Jack. 

“For punishment, sir,” replied the master. 

“What have I done, sir?” 

“No reply, sir! up with you.” 

“If you please, sir,” replied Jack, “I should wish to 
argue this point a little.” 

“Argue the point!” roared Mr. Smallsole. “By Jove! 
I’ll teach you to argue the point! Away with you, sir!” 

“If you please, sir,” continued Jack, “the captain told 
me that the articles of war were the rules and regulations 
by which every one in the service was to be guided. Now, 
sir,” said Jack, “I have read them over till I know them 
by heart, and there is not one word of mast-heading in 
the whole of them.” Here Jack took the articles out of 
his pocket, and unfolded them. 

“Will you go to the mast-head, sir, or will you not?” 
said Mr. Smallsole, 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 83 

t “Will yon show me the mast-head in the articles of war, 
sir*?” replied Jack; ‘‘here they are.” 

“I tell you, sir, to go to the mast-head; if not, I’ll be 
d d if I don’t hoist you up in a bread-bag.” 

“There’s nothing about bread-bags in the articles of 
war,” replied Jack; “but I’ll tell you what there is, # sir,” 
and Jack commenced reading: 

; “All flag officers, and all persons in or belonging to his 
majesty’s ships or vessels of war, being guilty of profane 
oaths, execrations, drunkenness, uncleanness, or other 
scandalous actions in derogation of God’s honor, and cor- 
ruption of good manners, shall incur such punishment 
as ” 

“Damnation!” cried the master, who was mad with 
rage, hearing that the whole ship’s company were laughing. 

“No, sir, not damnation,” replied Jack, “that’s when 
he’s tried above; but according to the nature and degree 
of the offense.” 

“Will you goto the mast-head, sir, or will you not?” 

“If you please,” replied Jack, “I’d rather not.” 

“Then, sir, consider yourself under an arrest — I’ll try 
you by a court-martial, by.G — d. Go down below, sir.” 

“With the greatest pleasure, sir,” replied Jack, “that’s 
all right, and according to the articles of war which are 
to guide us all.” Jack folded up the articles of war, put 
them into his pocket, and went down into the berth. 

Soon after Jack had gone down, Jolliffe, who had heard 
the whole of the altercation, followed him: “My lad,” 
said Jolliffe, “I’m sorry for all this; you should have gone 
to the mast-head.” 

“I should like to argue that point a little,” replied 
Jack. 

“Yes, so would everybody; but if that were permitted, 
the service would be at a standstill — that would not do — * 
you must obey an order first, and then complain after- 
ward, if the order is unjust.” 

“It is not so in the articles of war.” 

“But it is so in the service.” 

“The captain told me that the articles of war were the 
guides of the service, and we were all equally bound to 
obey them.” 

“Well, but allowing that, I do not think your articles of 
war will bear you out. You observe, they say any officer. 


S4 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


mariner, etc., guilty of disobedience to any lawful com« 
mand. Now are you not guilty under that article?” 

“That remains to be argued still,” replied Jack. “A 
lawful command means an order established by law; now 
where is that law? Besides, the captain told me, when I 
kicked that blackguard down the hatchway, that there 
<was only the captain who could punish, and that officers 
could not take the law into their own hands; why, then, 
has the master?” 

“His doing wrong as superior officer is no reason why 
you as an inferior should disobey him. If that were per- 
mitted, if every order were to be caviled at and argued 
upon, as just or unjust, there would be an end of all dis- 
cipline. Besides, recollect that in the service there is 
custom, which is the same as law.” 

“That admits of a little argument,” replied Jack. 

“The service will admit of none, my dear boy; recollect 
that, even on shore, we have two laws, that which is 
written and the lex non scripta , which is custom; of 
course we have it in the service, for the articles of war 
cannot provide for everything.” 

“They provide a court-martial for everything, though,” 
replied Jack. 

“Yes, with death or dismissal from the service— neither 
of which would be very agreeable. You have got yourself 
into a scrape, and although the captain is evidently your 
friend, he cannot overlook it: fortunately, it is with the 
master, which is of less consequence than with the other 
officers; but still, you will have to submit, for the captain 
cannot overlook it.” 

“I’ll tell you what, Jollilfe,” replied Jack, “my eyes 
>now begin to be opened to a great many things. The 
* captain tells me, when I am astonished at bad language, 
that it is all zeal, and then I found out that what is all 
zeal in a superior to an inferior, is insolence when reversed. 
He tells me that the articles of war are made to equally 
guide us all — the master breaks what is positively men- 
tioned in the second article twenty times over and goes 
scot-free, while I am to be punished, because I do not 
comply with what the articles do not mention. How was 
I to know that I ought to go to the mast-head for punish- 
ment? particularly when the captain tells me that he 
alone is to punish in the ship. If I obey an order in op- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN PAST. 


$5 


position to the captain’s order, is not that as bad as dis- 
obeying the captain? I think that I have made out a 
very strong case, and my arguments are not to be con- 
futed.” 

u I’m afraid that the master will make out a very strong 
case, and that your arguments will never be heard.” 

“That will be contrary to all the rules of justice.” 

“But according to all the rules of service.” 

“I do believe that I am a great fool,” observed Jack, 
after a pause'. “What do you imagine made me come to 
sea, Jolliffe?” 

“Because you did not know when you were well off,” 
replied the mate dryly. 

“That’s true enough; but my reason was, because I 
thought I should find that equality here that I could not 
find on shore.” 

Jolliffe stared. 

“My dear boy, I heard you say that you obtained those 
opinions from your father; I mean no disrespect to him, 
but he must be either mad or foolish, if at his age he has 
not yet discovered that there is no such thing in exist- 
ence.” 

“I begin to think so,” replied Jack; “but that does 
not prove that there ought not to be.” 

“I beg your pardon, the very non-existence proves that 
it ought not to be — ‘whatever is, is right’ — you might as 
well expect to find perfect happiness or perfection in the 
individual. Your father must be a visionary.” 

“The best thing that I can do is to go home again.” 

“No, my dear Easy, the best thing that you can do is 
to stay in the service, for it will soon put an end to all 
such nonsensical ideas; and it yvill make you a clever, 
sensible fellow. The service is a rough, but a good 
school, where everybody finds his level — not the level of 
equality, but the level which his natural talent and ac- 
quirements will rise or sink him to, in proportion as they 
are plus or minus. It is a noble service, but has its im- 
perfections, as everything in this world must have. I 
have little reason to speak in its favor, as far as I am 
concerned, for it has been hard bread to me, but there 
must be exceptions in every rule. Do not think of quit- 
ting the service until you have given it a fair trial. I am 
aware that you are an onlv sou, and your father is a man 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


of property, and therefore, in the common parlance of the 
world, you are independent; but, believe me, no man, 
however rich, is independent, unless he has a profession, 
and you will find no better than this, notwithstand- 
ing ” 

“What?” 

“That you will be, most certainly, sent to the mast-head 
to-morrow.” 

“We’ll argue that point,” replied Jack; “at all events, 
I will go and turn in to-night.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO BEGINS TO ACT AND THINK FOR 
HIMSELF. 

Whatever may have been Jack’s thoughts, at all 
events, they did not spoil his rest. He possessed in him- 
self all the materials of a true philosopher, but there was 
a great deal of weeding still required. Jolliffe’s argu- 
ments, sensible as they were, had very little effect upon 
him, for, strange to say, it is much more easy to shake a 
man’s opinions when he is wrong, than when he is right; 
proving that we are all of a very perverse nature. 
“Well,” thought Jack, “if I am to go to the mast-head, I 
am, that’s all; but it does not prove that my arguments 
are not good, only that they will not be listened to;” and 
then Jack shut his eyes, and in a few minutes was fast 
asleep. 

The master had reported to the first lieutenant, and the 
first lieutenant to the captain, when he came on board 
next morning, the conduct of Mr. Easy, who was sent for 
in the cabin, to hear if he had anything to offer in ex- 
tenuation of his offense. Jack made an oration, which 
lasted more than half an hour, in which all the arguments 
he had brought forward to Jolliffe in the preceding chap- 
ter were entered fully into. Mr. Jolliffe was then exam- 
ined, and also Mr. Smallsole was interrogated; after 
which the captain and the first lieutenant were left alone. 

“Sawbridge,” said Captain Wilson, “how true it is, 


MB. midshipman east. 




that any deviation from what is right invariably leads ns 
into a scrape. I have done wrong; wishing to get this 
hoy ont of his father’s hands, and fearful that he would 
not join the ship, and imagining him to be by no means 
the shrewd fellow that he is in reality, I represented the 
service in a much more favorable light than I should have 
done; all that he says I told him I did tell him, and it is 
I who really led the boy into error. Mr. Smallsole has 
behaved tyrannically and unjustly; he punished the lad 
for no crime; so that what between the master and me, I 
am now on the horns of a dilemma. If I punish the boy, 
I feel that I am punishing him more for my own fault and 
the fault of others than his own. If I do not punish 
him, I allow a flagrant and open violation of discipline to 
pass uncensured, which will be injurious to the service.” 

“He must be punished, sir,” replied Sawbridge. 

“Send for him,” said the captain. 

Jack made his appearance, with a very polite bow. 

“Mr. Easy, as you suppose that the articles of war con- 
tained all the rules and regulations of the service, I take 
it for granted that you have erred through ignorance. 
But recollect, that although you have erred through 
ignorance, such a violation of discipline, if passed un- 
noticed, will have a very injurious effect with the men, 
whose obedience is enforced by the example shown to then? 
by the officers. I feel so convinced of your zeal, which 
you showed the other day in the case of Easthupp, that 
I am sure you will see the propriety of my proving to the 
men, by punishing you, that discipline must be enforced, 
and I shall therefore send for you on the quarter-deck, 
and order you to go to the mast-head in presence of the 
ship’s company, as it was in presence of the ship’s com- 
pany that you refused.” 

“With the greatest pleasure, Captain Wilson,” replied 
Jack. 

“And in future, Mr. Easy, although I shall ever set my 
face against it, recollect that if any officer punishes you, 
and you imagine that you are unfairly treated, you will 
submit to the punishment, and then apply to me for re- 
dress.” 

“Certainly, sir,” replied Jack, “now that I am aware 
of your wdshes.” 

“You will oblige me, Mr. Easy, by going on the 
quarter-deck, and wait there till I come up.” 


88 


MR. MID SHIP M A S HAST. 


Jack made his best bow, and exit. 

“Old Jolliffe told me that I should have to go,” said 
Jack to himself, “and he was right, so far; but hang me 
if I hadn’t the best of the argument, and that’s all I care 
about.” 

1 Captain Wilson sent for the master, and reprimanded 
him for his oppression, as it was evident that there was no 

f round for punishment, and he forbade him ever to mast- 
ead another midshipman, but to report his conduct to the 
first lieutenant or himself. He then proceeded to the 
quarter-deck, and calling for Mr. Easy gave him what 
appeared to he a very severe reprimand, which Jack looked 
upon very quietly, because it was all zeal on the captain’s 
part to give it, and all zeal on his own to take it. Our 
hero was then ordered up to the mast-head. 

Jack took off his hat, and took three or four steps, in 
obedience to the order — and then returned and made his 
best bow — inquired of Captain Wilson whether he wished 
him to go to the fore or to the main mast-head. 

“To the main, Mr. Easy,” replied the captain, biting 
his lips. 

Jack ascended three spokes of the Jacob’s ladder, when 
he again stopped, and took off his hat. 

“I beg your pardon, Captain Wilson — you have not 
informed me whether it is your wish that I should go to 
the top-mast, or the top-gallant cross-trees.” 

“To the top-gallant cross-trees, Mr. Easy,” replied the 
captain. 

Jack ascended, taking it very easy; he stopped at the 
main-top for breath ; at the main-top-masthead, to look 
* about him ; and, at last, gained the spot agreed upon, 
.where he seated himself, and, taking out the articles of 
war, commenced them again, to ascertain whether he 
could not have strengthened his arguments. He had not, 
however, read through the seventh article before the hands 
were turned up — “up anchor!” and Mr. Sawbridge called, 
“All hands down from aloft!” 

Jack took the hint, folded up his documents, and came 
down as leisurely as he went up. Jack was a much better 
philosopher than his father. 

The Harpy was soon under weigh, and made all sail, 
steering for Cape de Gatte, where Captain Wilson hoped 
to pick up a Spanish vessel or two, on his way to Toulon 
to receive the orders of the admiral. 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. ' 




A succession of light breezes and calms rendered the 
passage very tedious; but the boats were constantly out, 
chasing the vessels along shore, and Jack usually asked to 
be . employed on this service ; indeed, although so short 
a time afloat, he was, from his age and strength, one of 
the most effective midsihpmen, and to be trusted, pro- 
vided a whim did not come into his head ; but hitherto 
Jack had always been under orders, and had always ac- 
quitted himself very well. 

When the Harpy was off Tarragona, it so happened that 
there were several cases of dysentery in the ship, and Mr. 
Asperand Mr. Jolliffe were two of those who were suffer- 
ing. This reduced the number of officers; and, at the 
same time, they had received information from the men 
of a fishing-boat, who, to obtain their own release, had 
given the intelligence that a small convoy was coming 
down from Rosas as soon as the wind was fair, under the 
protection of two gun-boats. 

Captain Wilson kept well off shore until the wind 
changed, and then, allowing for the time that the vessels 
would take to run down the distance between Tarragona 
and Rosas, steered in the night to intercept them; but it 
again fell calm, and the boats were therefore hoisted out 
with directions to proceed along the shore, as it was sup- 
posed that the vessels could not now be far distant. Mr. 
Sawbridge had the command of the expedition in the 
pinnace; the first cutter was in charge of the gunner, Mr. 
Minus; and, as the other officers were sick, Mr. Saw- 
bridge, who liked Jack more and more every day, at his 
particular request gave him the command of the second 
cutter. As soon as he heard of it, Mesty declared to our 
hero that he would go with him; but without permission 
that was not possible. Jack obtained leave for Mesty to 
go in lieu of a marine; there were many men sick of the 
dysentery, and Mr. Sawbridge was not sorry to take an 
idler out of the ship instead of a working man, especially 
as Mesty was known to be a good hand. 

It was ten o’clock at night when the boats quitted the 
ship; and, as it was possible that they might not return 
till late the next day, one day’s biscuit and rum were put 
on board each, that the crews might not suffer from ex- 
haustion. The boats pulled in shore, and then coasted 
for three hours without seeing anything; the night was 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


90 

fine overhead, but there was no moon. It still continued 
calm and the men began to feel fatigued, when, just as 
they were within a mile of a low point, they perceived the 
convoy over the land, coming down with their sails 
squared, before a light breeze. 

Mr. Sawbridge immediately ordered the boats to lie 
upon their oars, awaiting their coming, and arranging for 
the attack. 

The white lateen sails of the gun-boat in advance were 
now plainly distinguishable from the rest, which were all 
huddled together in her wake. Down she came like a 
beautiful swan in the water, her sails just filled with the 
wind, and running about three knots an hour. Mr. Saw- 
bridge kept her three masts in one, that they might not 
be perceived, and winded the boats with their heads the 
same way, so that they might dash on board of her with a 
few strokes of the oars. So favorable wafe the course of 
the gun-boat that she stood right between the launch 
on one bow and the two cutters on the other; and they 
were not perceived until they were actually alongside; the 
resistance was trifling, but some muskets and pistols had 
been fired, and the alarm was given. Mr. Sawbridge 
took possession, with the crew of the launch, and brought 
the vessel to the wind, as he perceived that at the alarm 
all the convoy had done the same, directing the cutters to 
board the largest vessels, and secure as many as they 
could, while he would do the same with the launch, as he 
brought them to; but the other gun-boat, which had not 
yet been seen, and had been forgotten, now made her ap- 
pearance, and came down in a gallant manner to the sup- 
port of her comrade. 

Mr. Sawbridge threw half his men into the launch, as 
she carried a heavy carronade, and sent her to assist the 
cutters, which had made right for the gun-boat. A smart 
firing of round and grape was opened upon the boats, 
which continued to advance upon her; but the officer 
commanding that gun-boat, finding that he had no sup- 
port from his consort, and concluding that she had been 
caytured, hauled his wind again, and stood out in the 
offing. Our hero pulled after her, although he could 
not see the other boats; but the breeze had freshened, 
and all pursuit was useless; he therefore directed his 
course to the convoy, and, after a hard pull, contrived to 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


91 


get on board of a one-masted xebecque, of about fifty 
tons. Mesty, who had eyes as sharp as a needle, had ob- 
served that when the alarm was given, several of the con- 
voy had not rounded the point, and he therefore proposed, 
as this vessel was very light, that they should make short 
tacks with her, to weather the point, as if they were es- 
caping, and by that means be able, particularly if it fell 
calm again, to capture some others. Jack thought this 
advice good. The convoy who had rounded the point had 
all stood out to seaward with the gun-boat, and had now 
a fresh breeze. To chase them was therefore useless ; and 
the .only chance was to do as Mesty had proposed. He 
therefore stood out into the breeze, and, after half an hour, 
tacked in shore, and fetched well to windward of the low 
point; but finding no vessels, he stood out again. Thus 
had he made three or four tacks, and had gained, per- 
haps, six or seven miles, when he perceived signals of re- 
call made to leeward, enforced with guns. 

“Mr. Sawbridge wants us to come back, Mesty.” 

“Mr. Sawbridge mind him own business,” replied 
Mesty, “we nebber take all dis trubble to ply to windward 
for noting.” 

“But, Mesty, we must obey orders.” 

“Yes, sar, when he have him thumb upon you; but 
now, must do what tink most proper. By de powers, he 
catch me ’fore I go back.” 

“But we shall lose the ship.” 

“Find her again, by and by, Massa Easy.” 

“But they will think that we are lost.” 

“So much the better, nebba look after us, Massa Easy; 
I guess we have a fine cruise, anyhow. Morrow we take 
large vessel — make sail, take more, den we go to Toulon.” 

“But I don’t know my way to Toulon; I know it lies 
up this way, and that’s all.” 

“Dat enough, what you want more? Massa Easy, ’pose 
you not find fleet, fleet soon find you. By God, nobody 
nebba lost here. Now, Massa Easy, let um go ’bout 
again. Somebody else burn biscuit and boil kettle to- 
morrow for de gentlemen. Murder Irish! only tink, 
Massa Easy — I boil kettle, and prince in my own country !” 

Easy was very much of a mind with Mesty; “for,” 
argued Jack, “if I go back now, I only bring a small ves- 
sel half -full of beans, and I shall be ashamed to show my 


92 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


face. Now it is true, that they may suppose that we have 
been sunk by the fire of the gun-boat. Well, what then? 
They have a gun-boat to show for their night’s work, and 
it will appear that there was harder fighting than there 
has been, and Mr. Sawbridge may benefit by it.” (Jack 
was a very knowing fellow to have learned so much about 
the service already.) “Well, and when they discover that 
we are not lost, how glad they will be to find us, especially 
if we bring some prizes — which I will do or I’ll not go back 
again. It’s not often that one gets a command before 
being two months at sea, and, hang me, now I’ve got it, 
if I won’t keep it; and Mr. Smallsole may mast-head whom 
he pleases. I’m sorry for poor Gossett, though ; if Vigors 
supposes me dead, how he will murder the poor little 
fellow — however, it’s all for the good of the service, and 
I’ll revenge him when I come back. Hang me if I won’t 
take a cruise.” 

“I talk to the men, they say they all tick to you like 
leech. Now dat job settled, I tink we better go ’bout 
again.” 

A short time after this decision on the part of our hero, 
the day broke; Jack first looked to leeward, and perceived 
the gun-boat and convoy standing in for the shore about 
ten miles distant, followed by the Harpy, under all sail. 
He could also perceive the captured gun-boat lying to 
in shore to prevent their escape. 

“Harpy hab um all, by gosh!” cried Mesty, “I ab no- 
tion dat she soon settle um hash.” 

They were so busy looking at the Harpy and the con- 
voy that for some time, they quite forgot to look to wind- 
ward. At last Mesty turned his eyes that way. 

“Damum, I see right last night ;" look, Massa Easy — one 
chip, one brig, tree lateen — dem for us. By de power, 
but we make bon prize to-night.” 

The vessels found out by Mesty were not above three 
miles to windward; they were under all sail, beating up 
for the protection of a battery, not far distant. 

“Now, massa, suppose they see our boat, dey tink some- 
thing; keep boat alongside, and shift her when we go 
’bout every time; better not sail so fast now — keep fur- 
ther off till they drop anchor for de night; and den, 
when it dark, we take ’em.” 

All Mesty’s advice was good, with the exception perhaps 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


03 

of advising our hero how to disobey orders and take a 
cruise. To prevent the vessel from approaching too near 
the others, and at the same time to let her have the ap- 
pearance of doing her best, a sail was towed overboard 
under the bows, and after that they watched the motions 
of the Harpy. 

The distance was too great to distinguish very clearly, 
but Mesty shinned up the mast of the vessel, and reported 
progress. 

“By Jasus, dare one gun — two gun — go it* Harpy. 
Won’t she ab um, sure enough. Now gun-boat fire — dat 
our gun-boat — no, dat not ours. Now our gun-boat fire — 
dat pretty — fire away. Ah, now de Harpy cum up. All 
’mung ’em. Bung, bung, bung — rattle de grape, by 
gosh. I ab notion de Spaniard is very pretty considerable 
trouble just now, anyhow. All hove to, so help me gosh 
— not more firing; Harpy take um all — dare gun-boat hove 
to, she strike um colors. By all powers, but suppose dey 
tink we no share prize-money — they find it not little mis- 
take. Now, my lads, it all over, and,” continued Mesty, 
sliding down the mast, “I tink you better not show your- 
self too much ; only two men stay on deck, and dem two 
take off um jackets.” 

Mesty’s report was correct; the Harpy had captured the 
other gun-boat, and the whole convoy. The only draw- 
back to their good fortune was the disappearance of Mr. 
Easy and the cutter; it was supposed that a shot from 
the gun-boat must have sunk her, and that the whole 
crew were drowned. Captain Wilson and Mr. Sawbridge 
seriously regretted the loss of our hero, as they thought 
that he would have turned out a shining character as soon 
as he had sown his wild oats ; so did Mr. Asper, because 
our hero’s purse went with him; so did Jolliffe, be- 
cause he had taken an affection for him; so did little 
Gossett, because he anticipated no mercy from Vigors; 
on the other hand, there were some who were glad that 
he was gone; and as for the ship’s company in general, 
they lamented the loss of the poor cutter’s crew for 
twenty-four hours, which, in a man-of-war, is a very long 
while, and then they thought no more about them. We 
must leave the Harpy to make the best of her way to 
Toulon, and now follow our hero. 

The cutter’s crew knew very well that Jack was acting 


94 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


contrary to orders, but anything was to them a change 
from the monotony of a man-of-war; and they, as well as 
Mesty, highly approved of a holiday. 

It was, however, necessary that they should soon pro- 
ceed to business, for they had but their allowance of 
bread and grog for one day, and in the vessel they found 
nothing except a few heads of garlic, for the Spaniards 
coasting down shore had purchased their provisions as 
they required them. There were only, three prisoners on 
board, and they had been put down in the hold among the 
beans, a bag of which had been roused on deck, and a 
part put into the kettle to make soup. Jack did not 
much admire the fare of the first day— it was bean-soup 
for breakfast, bean-soup for dinner, and if you felt hungry 
during the intervals, it was still bean-soup, and nothing 
else. 

One of the men could speak a little lingua Franca, and 
the prisoners were interrogated as to the vessels to wind- 
ward. The ship was stated to be valuable, and also one 
of the brigs. The ship carried guns, and that was all 
that they knew about them. As the sun went down the 
vessels dropped their anchors off the battery. The breeze 
continued light, and the vessel which contained Jack and 
his fortunes was about four miles to leeward. As for the 
Harpy, they had long lost sight of her, and it was now 
time to proceed to some arrangement. As soon as it was 
dark Jack turned his hands up and made a very long 
speech. He pointed out to the men that his zeal had in- 
duced him not to return to the ship until he had brought 
something with him worth having — that they had had noth- 
ing but beans to eat during the whole day, which was 
anything but agreeable, and that, therefore, it was abso- 
lutely necessary that they should better their condition ; 
that there was a large ship not four miles off, and that he 
intended to take her; and as soon as he had taken her he 
intended to take some more ; that he trusted to their zeal 
to support him on this occasion, and that he expected to 
do a great deal during the cruise. He pointed out to 
them, that they must consider themselves as on board of a 
man-of-war, and be guided by the articles of war, which 
were written for them all — and that in case they forgot 
them, he had a copy in his pocket, which he would read to 
them to-morrow morning, as soon as they were comfortably 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


95 


settled on board of the ship. He then appointed Mesty 
as first lieutenant ; the marine as sergeant; the coxswain 
as boatswain; two men as midshipmen to keep watch; 
two others as boatswain’s mates, leaving two more for the 
ship’s company, who were divided into the larboard and 
starboard watch. The \ cutter’s crew were perfectly con- 
tent with Jack’s speech, and their brevet rank, and after 
that, they commenced a more important topic, which was, 
how they were to take the ship. After some discussion, 
Mesty’s advice was -approved of; which was, that they 
should anchor not far ahead of the ship, and wait till 
about two o’clock in the morning, when they would drop 
silently down upon her in the cutter, and take possession. 

About nine o’clock the vessel w r as anchored as they pro- 
posed, and Jack was a little astonished to find that the 
ship was much larger than he had any idea of; for, al- 
though polacca rigged, she was nearly the same tonnage 
as the Harpy. The Spanish prisoners were first tied hand 
and foot, and laid upon the beans, that they might give 
no alarm, the sails were furled, and all was kept quiet. 

On board of the ship, on the contrary, there was noise 
and revelry; and about half-past ten a boat was seen to 
leave her and pull for the shore ; after which the noise 
gradually ceased, the lights one by one disappeared, and 
then all was silent. 

“What do you think, Mesty?” said Jack; “do you 
think we shall take her?” 

“It is take her you mane; sure enough we’ll take her, 
stop a bit — wait till um all fast asleep.” 

About twelve o’clock there came on a mizzling, heavy 
rain, which was very favorable for our hero’s operations. 
But as it promised soon to clear up, by Mesty’s advice 
they did not delay any longer. They crept softly into the 
boat, and with two oars to steer her, dropped under the 
bows of the vessel, climbed up the fore chains, and found 
the deck empty. “Take care not fire pistol,” said Mesty 
to the men, as they came up, putting his finger to their 
lips to impress them with the necessity of silence, for 
Mesty had been an African warrior, and knew the advan- 
tage of surprise. All the men being on deck, and the boat 
made fast, Jack and Mesty led the way aft; not a soul was 
to be seen; indeed, it was too dark to see anybody, unless 
they were walking the deck. The companion-hatch was 


96 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


secured, and the gratings laid on the after hatchways, and 
then they went aft to the binnacle again, where there 
was a light burning. Mesty ordered two of the men to 
go forward to secure the hatches, and then to remain 
there on guard — and then the rest of the men and our 
hero consulted at the wheel. 

“By the power we ab the ship!” said Mesty, “but must 
manage plenty yet. I tink der some damn lazy rascal 
sleep ’tween the guns. A lilly while it no rain, and den 
we see better. Now keep all quiet.” 

“There must be a great many men in this ship,” re- 
plied our hero; “she is very large, and has twelve or four- 
teen guns — how shall we manage to secure them?” 

“All right,” replied Mesty, “manage all datby and by. 
Don’t care how soon daylight come.” 

“It has left off raining already,” observed Easy; “there 
is a candle in the binnacle, suppose we light it and look 
round the decks.” 

“Yes,” replied Mesty, “one man sentry over cabin-hatch 
and another over after hatch. Now den we light candle 
and all the rest go round the deck. Mind you leave all 
your pistols on capstern.” 

Jack lighted the candle, and they proceeded round the 
decks; they had not walked far, when, between two of 
the guns, they discovered a heap covered with gregos. 
“There de watch” whispered Mesty; “all fast — not ready 
for dem yet.” 

Mesty blew out the candle, and they all retreated to the 
binnacle, where Mesty took out a coil of the ropes about the 
mizzenmast, and cutting it into lengths, gave them to the 
other men to unlay. In a few minutes they had prepared 
a great many seizings to tie the men with. 

“Now den we light candle again, and make sure of 
them lazy hounds,” said Mesty; “very much oblige to 
dem, all de same; they let us take the ship — mind now, 
wake one at a time, and shut him mouth.” 

“But suppose they get their mouths free and cry out?” 
replied Jack. 

“Den, Mr. Easy,” replied Mesty, changing his coun- 
tenance to an expression almost demoniacal — “there no 
help for it”— and Mesty showed his knife, which he held 
in his right hand. 

“Oh, no! do not let us murder them.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


97 


“No, massa — suppose cart help it; hut suppose they get 
tipper hand, what become of us? Spaniards hab knives, 
and use dem too, by de power.” 

The observation of Mesty was correct, and the expres- 
sion of his countenance when he showed his knife proved 
what a relentless enemy he could be, if his blood was once 
roused; but Mesty had figured in the Ashantee wars in 
former days, and after that the reader need not be sur- 
prised. They proceeded cautiously to where the Spaniards 
lay. The arrangements of Mesty were very good. There 
were two men to gag them, while the others were to tie 
their limbs. Mesty and Easy were to kneel by them 
with the candle, with raised knives to awe them into 
silence, or to strike home, if their own safety required it. 

The gregos were removed off the first man, who opened 
his eyes at the sight of the candle, but the coxswain’s 
hand was on his mouth ; he was secured in silence. The 
other two men were awakened, and threw off their cover- 
ings; but they were also secured without there being 
occasion to resort to bloodshed. 

“What shall we do now, Mesty?” 

“Now, sar,” said Mesty, “open the after-hatch and 
watch; suppose more men come up, we make them fast; 
suppose no more come up, we wait till daylight, and see 
what take place.” 

Mesty then went forward to see if the men were watch- 
ful on the forecastle; and having again gone round the 
whole of the deck to see if there were any more men on 
it, he blew out the candle, and took his station with the 
others at the after-hatchway. 

It was just at break of day that the Spaniards who had 
to keep the morning watch, having woke up, as people 
generally do at that hour at which they expect to be 
called, dressed themselves and came on deck imagining, 
and very truly, that those of the middle-watch had fallen 
asleep, but little imagining that the deck was in posses- 
sion of Englishmen. Mesty and the others retreated, to 
allow them all to come up before they could perceive 
them, and fortunately this was accomplished. Four men 
came on the deck, looked round them, and tried to make 
out in the dark where their shipmates might be. The 
grating was slapped on again by Jack, and before they 
©ould well gain their eyesight, they were seized and se* 
0urf»d ? cot, however* without a scuffle and some noise* 


98 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


By the time that these men were secured and laid be- 
tween the guns, it was daylight; and they now perceived 
what a fine vessel they had fairly taken possession of; but 
there was much to he done yet. There was, of course, 
a number of men in the ship, and moreover they 
were not a mile from a battery of ten guns. Mesty, who 
was foremost in everything, left four men abaft and went 
forward on the forecastle, examined the cable, which was 
coir rope, and therefore easily divided ; and then directed 
the two men forward to coil a hawser upon the foregrat- 
ing, the weight of which would make all safe in that quar- 
ter, and afterward to join them on the quarter-deck. 

“Now, Mr. Easy, the great ting .will be to get hold of 
captain; we must get him on deck. Open cabin-hatch 
now, and keep the after-hatch fast. Two men stay there, 
the others all come aft.” 

“Yes,” replied Jack; “it will be a great point to secure 
the captain; but how are we to get him up?” 

“You no know how to get captain up? By de holy, I 
know very well.” 

And Mesty took up the coils of rope about the mizzen- 
mast, and threw them upon deck, one after another, mak- 
ing all the noise possible. In a short time there was a 
violent pull of a bell at the cabin-door, and in a minute 
afterward a man in his shirt came up the cabin-hatchway, 
who was immediately secured. 

“Dis de captain’s servant,” said Mesty; “he come say 

no make such d d noise. Stop a little; captain get 

in passion, and come up himself.” 

And Mesty renewed the noise with the ropes over the 
cabin. Mesty was right; in a few minutes the captain 
himself came up boiling with indignation. At the sound 
of the cabin-door opening the seaman and our hero con- 
cealed themselves behind the companion-hatch, which 
was very high, so as to give the captain time to get fairly 
on deck. The men already secured had been covered over 
with the gregos. The captain was a most powerful man, 
and it was with difficulty that he was pinioned ; and then 
not without his giving the alarm, had there been any one 
to assist him, but as yet no one had turned out of his 
hammock. 

“Now we all right,” said Mesty, “and soon ab de ship; 
bat I must make him ’fraiC ” 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


99 


The captain was seated down on the deck against one of 
the guns, and Mesty, putting on the look of a demon, 
extended above him his long nervous arm, with the sharp 
knife clutched, as if ready every instant to strike it into 
his heart. The Spanish captain felt his situation any- 
thing but pleasant. He was then interrogated as to the 
number of men in the ship, officers, etc., to all which 
questions he answered truly; he cast his eyes at the firm 
and relentless countenance of Mesty, who appeared but to 
wait the signal. 

“1 tink all pretty safe now,” said Mesty. “Mr. Easy, 
we now go down below, and beat all men into the hold.” 

Our hero approved of this suggestion. Taking their 
pistols from the capstern, they rushed down with their 
cutlasses; and leaving two men to guard the cabin-door, 
they were soon among the crew, who were all naked in 
their hammocks; the resistance, although the numbers 
were more than double of the English, was of course 
trifling. In a few minutes, the Spaniards were all thrown 
down into the hold of the vessel, and the hatches placed 
over them. Every part of the ship was now in their 
possession, except the cabin, and to that they all repaired. 
Our hero tried the door, and found it fast; they beat it 
open, and were received with loud screams from one side 
of the cabin, and the discharge of two pistols from the 
other, fortunately without injury; those who had fired 
the pistols were an elderly man and a lad about the age of 
our hero. They were thrown down and secured; the 
cabin was searched, and nobody else found in it but three 
women; one old and shriveled, the other two, although 
with their countenances distorted with terror, were lovely 
as houris. So thought Jack, as he took off his hat, and 
made them a very low bow with his usual politeness, as 
they crouched, half-dressed, in a corner. He told them 
in English that they had nothing to fear, and begged that 
they would attend to their toilets. The ladies, made no 
reply, because, in the first place, they did not know what 
Jack said, and in the next, they could not speak English. 

Mesty interrupted Jack in his attentions, by pointing 
out that they must all go upon deck — so Jack again took 
off his hat and bowed, and then followed his men, who 
led away the two prisoners taken in the cabin. It was 
now five o’clock in the morning, and there was movement 


too 


MR, MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


on board of the other vessels which laid not far from the 
ship. 

“Now, then,” said Jack, “what shall we do with the 
prisoners? Could we not send the boat and bring our &wn 
vessel alongside, and put them all in, tied as they are? 
We should then get rid of them.” 

“Massa Easy, you be one very fine officer one of dese 
days. Dat d — mn good idea, anyhow; but suppose we 
send our own boat, what they link on board of de oder 
vessel? Lower down lilly boat from stern, put in four 
men, and drop vessel longside — dat it.” 

This was done; the cutter was on the seaward side of 
the ship, and, as the ship was the outermost vessel, was 
concealed from the view of the Spaniards on board of the 
other vessels, and in the battery on shore. As soon as the 
lateen vessel was alongside, the men who had already 
been secured on deck, amounting to seven, were lowered 
into her, and laid upon the beans in the hold ; all, except 
the captain, the two cabin prisoners, and the captain’s 
servant. 

They then went down below, took off one part of the 
hatches, and ordered the Spaniards up from the hold; as 
they came on deck they were made fast and treated in the 
same manner. Mesty and the men went down to examine 
if there were any left concealed, and finding that they 
were all out, returned on deck. The men who had been 
beaten down in the hold were twenty-two in number, 
making the whole complement of thirty. As soon as they 
had all been put into the xebecque, she was again hauled 
off and anchored outside, and Jack found himself in pos- 
session of a fine ship of fourteen guns, with three prisoners 
male, and three prisoners female. 

When the men returned in the boat from the vessel in 
which the prisoners had been confined (the hatches hav- 
ing been secured over them, by way of further precaution), 
by the advice of Mesty, they put on the jackets and caps 
of the Spanish seamen, of which there was a plentiful 
supply below. 

“Now, what’s to be done, Mesty?” inquired Jack. 

“Now, sar, we send some of the men aloft to get sails 
all ready, and while they do that I cast loose this fellow,” 
pointing to the captain’s servant, “and make him get 
some breakfast, for he know where to find it.” 


MP. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


101 


‘‘Capital idea of yours, Mesty, for I’m tired of bean- 
soup already, and I will go down and pay my respects to 
the ladies.” 

Mesty looked over the counter. 

“Yes, and be quick too, Massa Easy; d — mn the 
women, they toss their handkerchief in the air to people 
in the battery — quick, Massa Easy.” 

i Mesty was right, the Spanish girls were waving their 
handkerchiefs for assistance; it was all that they could 
do, poor things. Jack hastened into the cabin, laid hold 
of the two young ladies, very politely pulled them out of 
the quarter gallery, and begged that they would not give 
themselves so much trouble. The young ladies looked 
very much confused, and as they could no longer wave their 
handkerchiefs, they put them up to their eyes and began 
to weep, while the elderly lady went on her knees, and 
held her hands up for mercy. Jack raised her up, and 
very politely handed her to one of the cabin lockers. 

In the mean time Mes+y, with his gleaming knife and ex- 
pressive look, had done wonders with the captain’s steward, 
for such the man was ; and a breakfast of chocolate, salt 
meat, hams, sausages, white biscuit, and red wine had been 
spread on the quarter-deck. The men had come from 
aloft, and Jack was summoned on deck. Jack offered his 
hand to the two young ladies, and beckoned the old one 
to follow; the old lady did not think it advisable to refuse 
his courtesy, so they accompanied him. 

As soon as the females came on deck and found the two 
cabin prisoners bound, they ran to them and embraced 
them with tears. Jack’s heart melted, and as there was 
now no fear, he asked Mesty for his knife, and cut loose 
the two Spaniards, pointing to the breakfast, and request- 
ing that they would join them. The Spaniards made a 
bow, and the ladies thanked Jack with a sweet smile; and 
the captain of the vessel, who still lay pinioned against 
the gun, looked, as much as to say, why the devil don’t 
you ask me? but the fact was, they had had such trouble 
to secure him, that Jack did not much like the idea of 
letting him loose again. Jack and the seamen commenced 
their breakfast, and as the ladies and prisoners did not 
appear inclined to eat, they ate their share and their own 
too; during which, the elderly man inquired of Jack if 
he could speak French. 


102 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Jack, with his mouth full of sausage, replied that ha 
could, and then commenced a conversation, from which 
Jack learned as follows. 

The elderly gentleman was a passenger with the young 
man, who was his son, and the ladies, who were his wife 
and his tw6 daughters, and they were proceeding to 
Tarragona. Whereupon Jack made a bow and thanked 
him ; and then the gentleman, whose name was Don Cor- 
dova de Rimarosa, wished to know what Jack intended to 
do with them, hoping, as a gentleman, he would put them 
on shore with their effects, as they were non-combatants. 
Jack explained all this to Mesty and the men, and then 
finished his sausage. The men, who were a little elevated 
with the wine which they had been drinking, proposed 
that they should take the' ladies a cruise, and Jack at first 
did not dislike the idea, but he said nothing; Mesty, how- 
ever, opposed this, saying that ladies only made a row in 
a ship, and the coxswain sided with him, saying that 
they should all be at daggers drawn. Whereupon Jack 
pulled out the ‘ ‘articles of war,” and informed* the men 
that there was no provision in them for women, and there- 
fore the thing was impossible. 

The next question was, as to the propriety of allowing 
them to take their effects; and it was agreed, at last, that 
they might take them. Jack desired the steward to feed 
his master, the captain, and then told the Spanish don 
the result of the consultation; further informing him, 
that as soon as it was dark, he intended to put them all 
on board the small vessel, when they could cast loose the 
men and do as they .pleased. The don and the ladies 
returned thanks, and went down to pack up their baggage ; 
Mesty ordering two men to help them, but with a caution, 
that they were not to encumber themselves with any of 
the money, if there should happen to be any on board. 

The crew were busy during the day making prepara- 
tions for sailing. The coxswain had examined the prov- 
ender in the ship, and found that there was enough for 
at least three months, of water, wine, and provisions, inde- 
pendent of luxuries for the cabin. All thoughts of taking 
any more of the vessels were abandoned, for their crew 
was but weak to manage the one which they had posses- 
sion of. A fine breeze sprang up, and they dropped their 
fore-topsails just as a boat was shoving off from the shore; 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


103 


but seeing the fore-topsails loosed, it put back again. 
This was fortunate, or all would have been discovered. 
The other vessels also loosed their sails, and the crews 
were heard weighing the anchors. 

But the Nostra Senora del Carmen, which was Jack’s 
prize, did not move. At last the sun went down, the 
baggage was placed in the cutter, the ladies and passen- 
gers went into the boat, thanking Jack for his kindness, 
who put his hand to his heart and bowed to the deck; and 
the captain was lowered down after them. Four men 
well armed pulled them alongside of the xebecque, put 
them and their trunks on deck and returned to the ship. 
The cutter was then hoisted up, and as the anchor was too 
heavy to weigh, they cut the cable, and made sail. The 
other vessels followed their example. Mesty and the sea- 
men cast longing eyes upon them, but it was of no use; 
so they sailed in company for about an hour, and then 
Jack hauled his wind for a cruise. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS THAT DISAGREEABLE OCCUR- 
RENCES WILL TAKE PLACE ON A CRUISE. 

As soon as the ship had been hauled to the wind, Jack’s 
ship’s company seemed to think that there was nothing to 
do except to make merry, so they brought up some earthen 
jars full of wine, and emptied them so fast that they were 
soon fast asleep on the deck, with the exception of the 
man at the helm, who, instead of thirty-two, could clearly 
make out sixty-four points in the compass, and of course 
was able to steer to a much greater nicety. Fortunately, 
the weather was fine, for when the man at the helm had 
steered till he could see no more, and requested to be re- 
leased, he found that his shipmates were so overpowered 
with fatigue that it was impossible to wake them. He 
kicked them one by one most unmercifullly in the ribs, 
but it was of no use; under these circumstances, he did 
as they did, that is, lay down with them, and in ten min- 
utes, it would nave taken as much kicking to awake him 
as he gave his shipmates. 


104 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


In the mean time the ship had it all her own way, and 
not knowing where she was to go, she went round and 
round the compass during the best part of the night. 
Mesty had arranged the watches, Jack had made a speech, 
and the men had promised everything, but the wine had 
got into their heads, and memory had taken that oppor- 
tunity to take a stroll. Mesty had been down with Jack 
examining the cabin, and in the captain’s state-room they 
had found fourteen thousand dollars in bags; of this they 
determined not to tell the men, but locked up the money 
and everything else of value, and took out the key. They 
then sat down at the cabin table, and after some conver- 
sation, it was no matter of surprise, after having been up 
all the night before, that Jack laid his head on the table 
and fell fast asleep. Mesty kept his eyes open for some 
time, but at last his head sank down upon his chest, and 
he also slumbered. Thus about one o’clock in the morn- 
ing, there was not a very good watch kept on board of the 
Nostra Senora del Carmen. 

About four o’clock in the morning, Mesty tumbled for- 
ward, and he hit his head against the table, which roused 
him up. 

“By de mass, I tink I almost fall asleep,” cried he, and 
he went to the cabin window, which had been left open, 
and found that there was a strong breeze blowing in. 
“By de Lord, de wind ab come more aft,” said Mesty, 
“why they not tell meV” So saying, he went on deck, 
where he found no one at the helm; every one drunk, 
and the ship with her yards braced up, running before 
the wind, just by way of a change. Mesty growled, but 
there was no time to lose; the top-sails only were set — 
these he lowered down, and then put the helm a lee, and 
lashed it, while he went down to call our hero to his as- 
sistance. Jack roused up, and went on deck. 

“This nebber do, Massa Easy; we all go to devil together 
— dam drunken dogs — I freshen um up, anyhow.” So 
Mesty drew some buckets of water, with which he soused 
the ship’s company, who then appeared to be recovering 
their senses. 

“By heavens!” says Jack, “but this is contrary to the 
articles of war; I shall read them to them to-morrow 
morning.” 

“I tell what better ting, Massa Easy: we go lock up all 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


105 


de wine, and sarve out so much, and no more. I go do it 
at once, ’fore they wake up.” 

> Mesty went down, leaving Jack on deck to his medita- 
tions. 

“I am not sure,” thought Jack, 4 ‘that I have done a 
very wise thing. Here I am with a parcel of fellows who 
have no respect for the articles of war, and who get as 
^ drunk as David’s sow. I have a large ship, but I 
/have very few hands; and if it comes on bad weather, 
what shall I do? for I know very little — hardly how to 
take in a sail. Then — as for where to steer, or how to 
steer, I know not — nor do any of my men; but, however, 
as it was very narrow when we came into the Mediter- 
ranean, through the straits, it is hardly possible to get out 
of them without perceiving it; besides, I should know 
the rock of Gibraltar again, if I saw it. I must talk to 
Mesty.” 

Mesty soon returned with the keys of the provision- 
room tied to his bandana. 

“Now,” says he, “they not get drunk again in a hurry.” 

A few more buckets of water soon brought the men to 
their senses; they again stood on their legs, and gradually 
recovered themselves. Daylight broke, and they found 
that the vessel had made an attempt for the Spanish 
coast, being within a mile of the beach, and facing a large 
battery a fleur cD eau ; fortunately they had time to square 
the yards, and steer the ship along shore, under the top- 
sails, before they were perceived. Had they been seen at 
daylight in the position that they were in during the 
night, the suspicions of the Spaniards would have been 
awakened; and had a boat been sent off, while they were 
all drunk, they must have been recaptured. 

The men, who perceived what danger they had been in, 
listened very penitently to Jack’s remonstrances, and our 
hero, to impress them more strongly on their minds, took 
out the articles of war, and read that on drunkenness from 
beginning to end; but the men had heard it read so often 
at the gangway that it did not make a due impression. 
As Mesty said, his plan was better, and so it proved; for 
as soon as Jack had done, the men went down to get 
another jug of wine, and found, to their disappointment, 
that it was all under lock and key. 

In the mean time Jaqk called Mesty aft, and asked him 


106 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


if he knew the way to Toulon. Mesty declared that he 
knew nothing about it. 

“Then, Mesty, it appears to me that we have a better 
chance of finding our way back to Gibraltar; for you 
know the land was on our left side all the way coming up 
the Mediterranean ; and if we keep it, as it is now, on our 
right, we shall get back again along the coast.” 

Mesty agreed with Jack that this was the ne plus ultra 
of navigation; and that old Smallsole could not do better 
with his “pig-yoke” and compasses. So they shook a 
reef out of the topsails, set top-gallant sails, and ran 
directly down the coast from point to point, keeping about 
five miles distant. The men prepared a good dinner; 
Mesty gave them their allowance of wine, which was just 
double what they had on board the Harpy — so they soon 
appeared to be content. One man, indeed, talked very big 
and very mutinously, swearing that if the others would 
join him, they would soon have liquor enough; but Mesty 
gave him his look, opened his knife, and swore that he 
would settle him, and Jack knocked him down with a 
handspike; so that, what with the punishment received, 
and that which was promised, the fellow thought he 
might as well say nothing about it. The fact is, that had 
it not been from fear of Mesty, the whole of the men 
would, in all probability, have behaved equally as bad; 
nevertheless, they were a little staggered, it must be 
owned, at seeing Jack play so good a stick with the hand- 
spike. 

After this night, Jack and Mesty kept watch and watch, 
and everything went on very well until they were nearly 
abreast of Carthagena, when a gale came on from the 
northward, and drove them out of sight of land. Sail 
after sail was reduced with difficulty, from their having 
so few hands, and the gale blew for three days with great 
fury. The men were tired out and discontented. It was 
Jack’s misfortune that he had but one good man with 
him: even the coxswain of the boat, although a fine-look- 
ing man, was worth nothing. Mesty was Jack’s sheet- 
anchor. The fourth day the gale moderated, but they 
had no idea where they were; they knew that they had 
been blown off, but how far they could not tell; and Jack 
now began to discover that a cruise at sea without a knowl- 
edge of navigation was a more nervous thing than he had 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


107 


contemplated. However, there was no help for it: at 
night they wore the ship and stood on the other tack, and 
at daylight they perceived that they were close to some 
small islands, and much closer to some large rocks, 
against which the sea beat high, although the wind had 
subsided. Again was the helm put up, and they narrowly 
escaped. As soon as the sails were trimmed, the men 
came aft, and proposed that if they could find anchorage 
they should run into it, for they were quite tired out. 
This was true; and Jack consulted with Mesty, who 
thought it advisable to agree to the proposal. That the 
islands were not inhabited was very evident. The only 
point to ascertain was, if there were good anchorage. The 
coxswain offered to go in the boat and examine; and with 
four men he set off, and in about an hour returned, stat- 
ing that there was plenty of water, and that it was as 
smooth as a mill-pond, being land-locked on every side. 
As they could not weigh the bower-anchor they bent the 
kedge, and, running in without accident, came to in a 
small bay between the islands in seven fathoms water. 
The sails were furled, and everything put in order by the 
seamen, who then took the boat, and pulled on shore. 
“They might as well have asked leave/ ’ thought Jack. 
In an hour they returned, and, after a short discussion, 
came aft to our hero, in a body. 

The coxswain was spokesman. He said that they had 
had hard work, and required now to have some rest; that 
there were provisions on board for three months, so that 
there could not be any hurry — and that they had found 
they could pitch a tent very well on shore, and live there 
for a short time — and that as there was no harm in getting 
drunk on shore, they expected that they might bealllowed 
to take provisions and plenty of wine with them; and 
that the men had desired him to ask leave, because they 
were determined to go whether or no. Jack was about to 
answer with the handspike; but perceiving that the men 
had all put on their cutlasses, and had their pistols at 
their belts, he thought proper to consult Mesty, who, per- 
ceiving that resistance was useless, advised Jack to sub- 
mit, observing that the sooner all the wine was gone the 
better, as there would be nothing done while it lasted. 
Jack, therefore, very graciously told them that they 
should have their own way, and he would' stay there as 


108 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


long as they pleased. Mesty gave them the keys of the 
provision-hatch, and told them, with a grin, to help them- 
selves. The men then informed Jack that he and Mesty 
should stay on board, and take care of the ship for them, 
and that they would take the Spaniard on shore to cook 
their victuals; hut to this Jack observed that if he had , 
not two hands, he could not obey their orders, in case 1 * 
they wished him to come on shore for them. The men 
thought there was good argument in that observation, and 
therefore allowed Jack to retain the Spaniard, that he 
might be more prompt to their call from the beach; they 
then wished him good-day, and begged that he would 
amuse himself with the articles of war. 

As soon as they had thrown a spare sail into the boat, 
with some spars to make a tent, and some bedding, they 
went down below, hoisted up two pipes of wine out of the 
three, a bag or two of biscuit, arms and ammunition, and 
as much of the salt provisions as they thought they might 
require. The boat being full, they shoved off, with three 
cheers of derision. Jack was sensible to the compliment; 
he stood at the gangway, took off his hat, and made them 
a polite bow. 

As soon as they were gone, Mesty grinned with his 
sharp-filed teeth, and looking at our hero, said: 

“I tink I make um pay for all dis — stop a little; by de 
piper as played before Moses ! but our turn come by and 
by.” 

As for Jack, he said nothing, but he thought the more. 
In about an hour the men returned in the boat; they had 
forgotten many things they wanted — wood to make a fire 
and several utensils; they helped themselves freely, and 
having now everything that they could think of, they 
again went on shore. 

“How d — mn lucky, we nebber tell dem about the dol- 
lars!” said Mesty, as Jack and he were watching the 
motions of the men. 

“It is, indeed,” replied Jack, “not that they could 
spend them here.” 

“No, MassaEasy; but suppose they find all that money, 
they take boat and go away with it. Now, I hab ’em in 
my clutch; stop a little!” 

A narrow piece of salt pork had been left at the gang- 
way. Jack, without knowing why, tossed it overboard; 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


109 


being almost all fat, it sank very gradually; Jack watched 
it as it disappeared, so did Mesty, both full of thought, 
when they perceived a dark object rising under it: it was a 
ground shark, who took it into his maw, sank down, and. 
disappeared. 

‘‘What was that?” said Jack. 

“That ground shark, Massa Easy, worst shark of all; 
you nebber see him till you feel him.” And Mesty ’s eyes 
sparkled with pleasure. “By de powers, they soon stop 
de mutiny! now I hab ’em.” 

Jack shuddered and walked away. 

During the day, the men on shore were seen to work 
hard, and make all the preparations before they aban- 
doned themselves to the sensual gratification of intemper- 
ance. The tent was pitched, the fire was lighted, and all 
the articles taken on shore rolled up and stowed away in 
their places; they were seen to sit down and dine, for 
they were within hail of the ship, and then one of the 
casks of wine was spiled. In the mean time the Spaniard, 
who was a quiet lad, had prepared the dinner for Easy 
and his now only companion. The evening closed, and 
all was noise and revelry on shore; and as they danced, 
and sang, and tossed off the cans of wine by the light of 
the fire, as they hallooed and screamed, and became more 
and more intoxicated, Mesty turned to Jack with his bit- 
ter smile, and only said : 

“Stop a little.” 

At last the noise grew fainter, the fire died away, and 
gradually all was silent. Jack was still hanging over the 
gangway, when Mesty came up to him. The new moon 
had just risen, and Jack’s eyes were fixed upon it. 

“Now, Massa Easy, please you come aft and lower down 
little boat; take your pistols, and then we go on shore and 
bring off the cutter; they all asleep now.” 

“But why should we leave them without a boat, 
Mesty?” for Jack thought of the sharks, and the proba- 
bility of the men attempting to swim off. 

tell you, sar, this night they get drunk, to-morrow 
they get drunk again ; but drunken men never keep quiet. 
Suppose one man say to others, ‘Let’s go board and 
kill officer, and then we do as we please;’ they all say yes, 
and they all come and do it. No, sar — must have boat — 
if not for your sake, I must hab it; save my own life any- 


110 


MR. MIDSItlPMAN EASY. 


how, for they hate me and kill me first. By de powers! 
stop a little / 9 

Jack felt the truth of Mesty’s observation; he went aft 
with him, lowered down the small boat, and they hauled 
it alongside. Jack went down with Mesty into the cabin, 
and fetched his pistols. “And the Spaniard, Mesty, can 
we leave him on board alone?” 

“Yes, sar; he no got arms, and he see dat we have; but 
suppose he find arms, he never dare do anything; I know 
de man.” 

Our hero and Mesty went down into the boat and 
shoved off, pulling gently on shore; the men were in a 
state of intoxication so as not to be able to move, much 
less hear. They cast off the cutter, towed her on board, 
and made her fast with the other boat astern. 

“Now, sar, we may go to bed; to-morrow morning you 
will see.” 

“They have everything they require on shore,” replied 
Easy; “all they could want with the cutter would be to 
molest us.” 

“Stop a little,” replied Mesty. 

Jack and Mesty went to bed, and as a precaution against 
the Spaniard, which was hardly necessary, Mesty locked 
the cabin door — but Mesty never forgot anything. 

Jack slept little that night— had melancholy forebod- 
ings which he could not shake off; indeed, Jack had re- 
flected so much since he had left the ship, he had had his 
eyes so much opened, and had felt what a responsibility 
he had taken by indulging himself in a. whim of the 
moment, that it might be almost said, that in the course 
of one fortnight he had at once from a boy sprung up into 
a man. He was mortified and angry, but he was chiefly 
so with himself. 

Mesty was up at daylight, and Jack soon followed him ; 
they watched the party on shore, who had not yet left the 
tent. At last, just as Jack had finished his breakfast, 
one or two made their appearance; the men looked about 
them as if they were searching for something, and then 
walked down to the beach, to where the boat had been 
made fast. Jack looked at Mesty, who grinned, and 
answered with the words so often repeated : 

“Stop a little.” 

The men then walked along the rocks until they were 
abreast of the ship. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Ill 


“Ship ahoy!” 

“Halloo,” replied Mesty. 

“Bring the Iboat ashore directly, with a breaker of 
water.” 

“I knew dat,” cried Mesty, rubbing his hands with de- 
light. 

“Massa Easy, you must tell them No.” 

“But why should I not give them water, Mesty?” 

“Because, sar, den dey take boat.” 

“Very true,” replied Easy. 

“Do you hear on board?” cried the coxswain, who was 
the man who hailed — “send the boat immediately, or we’ll 
cut the throats of every mother’s son of you, by God!” 

“I shall not send the boat,” replied Jack, who now 
thought Mesty was right. 

“You won’t — won’t you? — then your doom’s sealed,” 
replied the man, walking up to the tent with the other. 
In a short time all the seamen turned out of the tent, 
bringing with them four muskets, which they had taken 
on shore with them. 

“Good heavens! they are not, surely, going to fire at 
us, Mesty!” 

“Stop a little.” 

The men then came down abreast of the ship, and the 
coxswain again hailed and asked if they would bring the 
boat on shore. 

“You must say, No, sar,” replied Mesty. 

“I feel I must,” replied Jack, and then he answered 
the coxswain, “No.” 

The plan of the mutineers had been foreseen by the 
wily negro — it was to swim off to the boats which were 
riding astern, and to fire at him or Jack, if they at- 
tempted to haul them up alongside pid defend them. To 
get into the boats, especially the smaller one, from out of 
the water, was easy enough. Some of the men examined 
their priming and held the muskets at their hips all 
ready, with the muzzles toward the ship, while the cox- 
swain and two men were throwing off their clothes. 

“Stop, for God’s sake stop!” cried Jack. “The har- 
bor is full of ground sharks — it is. upon my soul!” 

“Do you think to frighten us with ground sharks?” re- 
plied the coxswain; “keep under cover, my lad; Jack, 
give him a shot to prove we are in earnest, and every time 


112 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


he or that nigger show their heads, give them another^ 
my lads.” 

“For God’s sake, don’t attempt to swim,” said Jack, 
in an agony; “I will try some means to give yon water.” 

“Too late now — you’re doomed;” and the coxswain 
sprang off the rock into the sea, and was followed by two 
other men: at the same moment a musket was discharged, 
and the bullet whistled close to our hero’s ear. 

Mesty dragged Jack from the gangway, who was now 
nearly fainting from agonizing feelings. He sank on the 
deck for a moment, and then sprang up and ran to the 
port to look at the men in the water. He was just in 
time to see the coxswain raise himself with a loud yell out 
of the sea, and then disappear in a vortex, which was 
crimsoned with his blood. 

Mesty threw down his musket, of which he had several 
all ready loaded, in case the men should have gained the 
boats. 

“By de powers, dat no use now !” 

Jack had covered his face with his hands. But the 
tragedy was not complete; the other men, who were in 
the water, had immediately turned and made for the 
shore, but before they could reach it, two more of these 
voracious monsters, attracted by the blood of the coxswain, 
had flown to the spot, and there was a contention for the 
fragments of their bodies. 

Mesty, who had seen this catastrophe, turned toward 
our hero, who still hid his face. 

“I’m glad he no see dat, anyhow,” muttered Mesty. 

“See what!” exclaimed Jack. 

“Shark eat ’em all.” 

“Oh, horrid! horrid!” groaned our hero. 

“Yes, sar, very horrid,” replied Mesty, “and dat bullet 
at your head very horrid. Suppose the sharks no take 
them, what then? They kill us and the sharks have our 
body. I tink that more horrid still.” 

“Mesty,” replied Jack, seizing the negro convulsively 
by the arm, “ it was not the sharks — it was I — I who have 
murdered these men.” 

Mesty looked at Jack with surprise. 

“How dat possible?” 

“If I had not disobeyed orders,” replied our hero, 
panting for breath, “if 1 had not shown them the exam- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, \ 


113 


pie of disobedience, this would not have happened. How 
could I expect submission from them? It’s all my fault — 
I see it now — and, 0 God! when will the sight be blotted 
from my memory?” 

“Massa Easy, I not understand that,” replied Mesty, 
“I tink you talk ►foolish — might as well say, suppose 
Ashantee men not make war, this not happen; for sup* 
pose Ashantee not make war, I not slave — I not run away 
— I not come board Harpy — I not go in boat with you — I 
not hinder men from getting drunk — and dat why they 
make mutiny — and the mutiny why the shark take um !” 

Jack made no reply, but he felt some consolation from 
the counter argument of the negro. 

The dreadful death of the three mutineers appeared to 
have had a sensible effect upon their companions, who 
walked away from the beach with their heads down and 
with measured steps. They were now seen to be peram- 
bulating the island, probably in search of that water which 
they required. At noon, they returned to their tent, 
and soon afterward were in a state of intoxication, halloo- 
ing and shouting as the day before. Toward the evening 
they came down to the beach abreast of the ship, each 
with a vessel in their hands, and perceiving that they had 
attracted the notice of our hero and Mesty, tossed the 
contents of the vessels up in the air to show that they had 
found water, and hooting and deriding, went back, danc- 
ing, leaping, and kicking up their heels, to renew their 
ogies, which continued till after midnight, when they 
were all stupefied as before. 

The next day Jack had recovered from the first shock 
which the catastrophe had given him, and he called Mesty 
into the cabin to hold a consultation. 

“Mesty, how is this to end?” 

“How" you mean, sar? — end here, or end on board of 
de Harpy?” 

“The Harpy! there appears little chance of our seeing 
her again — we are on a desolate island, or what is the 
same thing; but we will hope that it will be so: but how 
is this mutiny to end?” 

“Massa Easy, suppose I please I make it end very soon, 
but I not in hurry.” 

“How do you mean, Mesty, not in a hurry?” 

“kook, Massa Easy, you wish take a cruise, and J 


114 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


wish the same thing — now because mutiny you want to go 
back — hut, by all de powers, you tink that I, a prince in 
my own country, feel wish to go back and ~boil kettle for 
de young gentlemen. No, Massa Easy, gib me mutiny — 
gib me anyting — but — once I was prince,” replied Mesty, 
lowering his voice at the last few emphatic words. 

“You must one of these days tell me your history, 
Mesty,” replied Jack; “but just now let us argue the point 
in question. How could you put an end to this mutiny?” 

“By putting an end to all wine. Suppose I go shore 
after they all drunk, I spile the casks in three or four 
places, and in the morning all wine gone — den dey ab get 
sober, and beg pardon — we take dem on board, put away 
all arms ’cept yours and mine, and I like to see mu- 
tiny after dat. Blood and ’ounds : — but I settle um, any- 
how.” 

“The idea is very good, Mesty, why should we not do 
so?” 

“Because I not like run de risk to go ashore — all for 
what? to go back, boil de kettle for all gentlemans — I 
very happy here, massa,” replied Mesty carelessly. 

“And I am very miserable,” replied Jack; “but, how- 
ever, I am completely in your power, Mesty,. and I must, 
I suppose, submit.” 

“What you say, Massa Easy — submit to me? No, sar, 
when you are on board Harpy as officer, you talk with me 
as friend, and not treat me as negro servant. Massa Easy, 
I feel — I feel what I am,” continued Mesty, striking his 
bosom, “I feel it here — for all first time since I leave my 
country, I feel dat I am someting; but, Massa Easy, I love 
my friend as much as I hate my enemy — and you nebber 
submit to me — I too proud to allow dat, ’cause, Massa 
Easy — I am a man — and once I was a prince.” 

Although Mesty did not perhaps explain by words half 
so well as he did by his countenance the full tide of feel- 
ing which was overflowing in his heart, Jack fully under- 
stood and felt it. He extended his hand to Mesty, and 
said: 

“Mesty — that you have been a prince, I care little 
about, although I doubt it not, because you are incapable 
of a lie; but you are a man, and I respect you, nay, I love 
you as a friend — and with my will we never part 
again.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN PA ST. 


115 


Mesty took the hand offered by Jack. It was the first 
peace-offering ever extended to him since he had been 
torn away from his native land — the first compliment, the 
first tribute, the first acknowledgment, perhaps, that he 
was not an inferior being; he pressed it in silence, for he 
could not speak ; but could the feelings which were suffo- 
cating the negro but have been laid before skeptics, they 
must have acknowledged that at that moment they were 
all and only such as could do honor, not only to the 
prince, but even to the Christian. So much was Mesty 
affected with what had happened, that when he dropped 
the hand of our hero, he went down into the cabin, find- 
ing it impossible to continue the conversation, which 
was not renewed until the next morning. 

“What is your opinion, Mesty? Tell me, and I will be 
governed by it.” 

“Den, sar, I tell you I tink it right that they first come 
and ask to come on board before you take them — and, sar, 
I tink it also right, as we are but two and they are five, 
dat dey first eat all their provision — let ’em starve plenty, 
and den dey come on board tame enough.” 

“At all events,” replied Jack, “the first overtures of 
some kind or another must come from them. I wish I 
had something to do — I do not much like this cooping up 
on board ship.” 

“Massa, why you no talk with Pedro?” 

“Because I cannot speak Spanish.” 

“I know dat, and dat why I ask de question. You 
very sorry when you meet the two pretty women in the 
ship, you not able to talk with them — I guess that.” 

“I was very sorry, I grant,” replied Jack. 

“Well, Massa Easy, by and by we see more Spanish 
girl. Why not talk all day with Pedro, and den you able 
to talk with dem?” 

“Upon my word, Mesty, I never had an idea of your 
value. I will learn all the Spanish that I can,” replied 
Jack, who was glad to have employment found for him, 
and was quite disgusted with the articles of war. 

As for the men on shore, they continued the same 
course, if not as before, one day succeeded another, and 
without variety. It was, however, to be observed that 
the fire was now seldomer lighted, which proved their 
fuel scarce, and the weather was not so warm as it had 


lie 


mr. mid ship maM Hast. 


been, for it was now October. Jack learned Spanish from 
Pedro for a month, during which there was no appear- 
ance of submission on the part of the mutineers, who, for 
the first fortnight, when intoxicated, used to come down 
and fire at Jack or Mesty, .when they made their appear- 
ance. Fortunately, drunken men are not good marksmen, 
but latterly this had been discontinued, because they had 
expended their ammunition — and they appeared to have 
almost forgotten that the ship was there, for they took no 
notice of her whatever. 

On the other hand, Jack had decided that if he waited 
there a year, the overtures should come from them who 
had mutinied ; and now, having an occupation, he passed 
his time very quietly, and the days flew so fast that two 
months had actually been run off the calendar before he 
had an idea of it. 

One evening, as they were down in the cabin, for the 
evenings had now become very cold, Jack asked Mesty 
whether he had any objection to give him a history of his 
life. Mesty replied, that if he wished he was ready to 
talk ; and at a nod from our hero, Mesty commenced as 
follows. 


CHAPTER XV. 

IN’ WHICH MUTINY, LIKE FIRE, IS QUENCHED FOR WANT 
OF FUEL AND NO WANT OF WATER. 

, Although we have made the African negro hitherto 
ttalk in his own mixed jargon, yet as we consider that, in 
^a long narration, it will be tedious to the reader, we shall 
now translate the narrative part into good English, merely 
leaving the conversation with which it may be broken in 
its peculiar dialect. 

“The first thing I recollect,” said Mesty, “is that I was 
carried on the shoulders of a man with my legs hanging 
down before, and holding on by his head. 

“Every one used to look at me, and get out of the 
way, as I rode through the town and market-place, so 
loaded with heavy gold ornaments that I could not bear 
them, and was glad when the women took them off; but 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 


as I grew older I became proud of them, because I knew 
that I was the son of a king — I lived happy, I did nothing 
but shoot my arrows, and I had a little sword which I was 
taught to handle, and the great captains who were about 
my father showed me how to kill my enemies. Some- 
times I lay under the shady trees, sometimes I was with 
the women belonging to my father, sometimes I was with 
him and played with the skulls and repeated the names of 
those to whom they had belonged, for in our country, when 
we kill our enemies, we keep their skulls as trophies. 

“As I grew older, I did as I pleased, I beat the women 
and the slaves ; I think I killed some of the latter — I 
know I did one, to try whether I could strike well with 
my two-handed sword made of hard and heavy wood — but 
that is nothing in our country. I longed to be a great 
captain, and I thought of nothing else but war and fight- 
ing, and how many skulls I should have in my possession 
when I had a house and wives of my own, and I was no 
longer a boy. I went out in the woods to hunt, and' I 
stayed for weeks. And one day I saw a panther basking 
in the sun, waving his graceful tail. I crept up softly till 
I was behind a rock within three yards of it, and drawing 
my arrow to the head, I pierced him through the body. 
The animal bounded up in the air, saw me, roared, and 
made a spring, but I dropped behind the rock, and he 
passed over me. He turned again to me, but I had 
my knife ready, and, as he fixed his talons into my 
shoulder and breast, I pierced him to the heart. This 
was the happiest day of my life; I had killed a panther 
without assistance, and I had the wounds to show. Al- 
though I was severely hurt, I thought nothing of it. I 
took olf the skin as my blood dropped down and mixed 
with that of the beast — but I rejoiced in it. Proudly did 
I go into the town dripping with gore and smarting with 
pain. Every one extolled the feat, called me a hero and a 
great captain. I filed my teeth, and I became a man. 

“From that day I ranked among the warriors, and, as 
soon as my wounds were healed, I went out to battle. In 
three fights I had gained five skulls, and when I returned 
they weighed me out gold. I then had a house and wives, 
and my father appointed me a caboceer. I wore the plume 
of eagle and ostrich feathers, my dress was covered with 
fetishes, I pulled on the boots with bells, and with my 


118 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


bow and arrows slung on my back, my spear and blunder- 
buss, my knives and my double-handed sword, I led the 
men to battle and brought back skulls and slaves. Every 
one trembled at my name, and, if my father threatened 
to send me out, gold-dust covered the floor of his hall of 
council. Now I boil the kettle for the young gentlemen ! 

“There was one man I liked. He was not a warrior, or 
I should have hated him, but he was brought up with me 
in my father’s house, and was a near relative. I was 
grave and full of pride, he was gay and fond of music, and 
although there was no music to me equal to the tom-tom, 
yet I did not always wish for excitement. I often was 
melancholy, and then I liked to lay my head in the lap of 
one of my wives, under the shady forest behind my house, 
and listen to his soft music. At last he went to a town 
near us where his father lived, and as he departed I gave 
him gold-dust. He had been sent to my father to be 
formed into a warrior, but he had no strength of body, 
and he had no soul; still I loved him, because he was not 
like myself. There was a girl in the town who w T as beau- 
tiful; many asked for her as their wife, but her father 
had long promised her to my friend ; he refused even the 
greatest warrior of the place, who went away in wrath to 
the fetish-man, and throwing him his gold armlets, asked 
for a fetish against his rival. It was given, and two days 
before he was to be married my friend died. His mother 
came to me, and it was enough. I put on my war dress, 
I seized my weapons, sat for a whole day with my skulls 
before me, working up my revenge, called out my men, 
and that night set olf for the town where the warrior re- 
sided, killed two of his relatives, and carried off ten of his 
slaves. When he heard what I had done, he trembled 
and sent gold ; but I knew that he had taken the girl 
home as his wife, and I would not listen to the old man 
who sought to pacify me. Again I collected a larger 
force, and attacked him in the night; we fought, for he 
was prepared with his men, but after a struggle he was 
beaten back. I fired his house, wasted his provision 
ground, and taking away more slaves, I returned home 
with my men, intending soon to assault him again. The 
next day there came more messengers, who knelt in vain, 
so they went to my father, and many warriors begged him 
to interfere. My father sent for me, but I would not 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN RASY. 


110 


listen; the warriors spoke, and I turned my babk; my 
father was wroth and threatened, the warriors brandished 
their two-handed swords — they dared to do it; I looked 
over my shoulder with contempt, and I returned to my 
house. I took down my skulls, and I planned. It was 
evening, and I was alone, when a woman covered up to 
the eyes approached; she fell down before me as she ex- 
posed her face. 

“ ‘I am the girl who was promised to your relation, and 
I am now the wife of your enemy. I shall be a mother. 
I could not love your relation, for he was no warrior. It 
is not true that my husband asked for a fetish — it was I 
who bought it, for I would not wed him. Kill me and be 
satisfied.’ 

“She was very beautiful, and I w T ondered not that my 
enemy loved her — and she was with child — it was his 
child, and she had fetished my friend to death. I raised 
my sword to strike, and she did not shrink ; it saved her 
life. ‘Thou art fit to be the mother of warriors,’ said I, 
as I dropped my sword, ‘and thou shalt be my wife, but 
first his child shall be born, and I will have thy husband’s 
skull.’ 

“ ‘No, no,’ replied she, ‘I will be the mother of no 
warriors but by my present husband, whom I love; if you 
keep me as your slave I will die.’ 

“I told her she said foolish things, and sent her to the 
women’s apartment, with orders to be watched — but she 
hardly had been locked up before she drew her knife, 
plunged it into her heart, and died. 

“When the king my father heard this he sent me a 
message — ‘Be satisfied with the blood that has been shed, 
it is enough’ — but I turned away, for I wished for mine 
enemy’s skull. That night I attacked him again, and 
met him hand to hand ; I killed him, and carried home 
his skull, and I was appeased. 

“But all the great warriors were wroth, and my father 
could not restrain them. They called out their men, and 
I called out my men, and I had a large body, for my name 
was terrible. But the force raised against me was twice 
that of mine, and I retreated to the bush — after awhile we 
met and fought, and I killed many, but my men were too 
few and were overpowered — the fetish had been sent out 
against me, and their hearts melted ; a t last I sank down 


120 


mr. midshipman Easy. 


with my wounds, for I bled at every pore, and I told my 
men who were about me to take off my feathers, and my dress 
and boots, that my enemies might not have my skull; they 
did so, and I crawled into the bush to die. But I was 
not to die; I was recovering, when I was discovered by 
those who steal men to sell them. I was bound, and 
fastened to a chain with many more — I, a prince and a 
warrior, who could show the white skulls 'of his enemies. 
I offered to procure gold, but they derided me; they 
dragged me down to the coast, and sold me to the whites. 
Little did I think, in my pride, that I should be a slave. 
I knew that I was to die, and hoped to die in battle; my 
skull would have been more prized than all the gold in 
the earth, and my skin would have been stuffed and hung 
up in the fetish-house — instead of which, I now boil the 
kettle for the young gentlemen.” 

“Well,” replied Jack, “that’s better than being killed 
and stuffed.” 

“Mayhap it is,” replied Mesty, “I tink very different 
now dan I tink den — but still, it women’s work and not 
suit me. 

“They put me with others into a cave until the ship 
came, and then we were sent on board, put in irons, and 
down in the hold, where you could not sit upright — I 
wanted to die — but could not; others died every day, but 
I lived — I was landed in America all bone, and I fetched 
very little money — they laughed at me, as they bid their 
dollars ; at last a man took me away, and I was on a plan- 
tation with hundreds more, but too ill to work, and not 
intending to work. The other slaves asked me if I was a 
fetish-man ; I said yes, and I would fetish any man that I 
did not like; one man laughed, and I held up my finger; 
I was too weak to get up, for my blood had long boiled 
with fever, and I said to him, You shall die; for I 
meant to have killed him, as soon as I was well. He went 
away, and in three days he was dead. I don’t know how, 
but all the slaves feared me, and my master feared me, 
for he had seen the man die, and he, although he was a 
white man, believed in fetish, and he wished to sell me 
again, but no one would buy a fetish-man, and so he made 
friends with me; for I told him, if I was beat he should 
die, and he believed me. He took me into his house, and 
I was his chief man, and I would not let the other slaves 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


ni 


steal, and he was content. He took me with him to New 
York, and there, after two years, when I had learned Eng- 
lish, I ran away, and got on board of an English ship — - 
and they told me to cook. I left the ship as soon as I 
came to England, and offered myself to another, and they 
said they did not want a cook ; and I went to another, and 
they asked me if I was a good cook ; everybody seemed to 
think that a black man must be a cook, and nothing else. 
At last I starve, and I go on board man-of-war, and here 
I am, after having been a warrior and a prince, cook, 
steward, and every ting else, boiling kettle for de young 
gentlemen. ” 

“Well,” replied Jack, “at all events that is better than 
being a slave.” 

Mesty made no reply; any one who knows the life of a 
midshipman’s servant will not be surprised at his silence. 

“Now, tell me, do you think you were right in being 
so revengeful, when you were in your own country?” in- 
quired Jack. 

“I tink so den, Massa Easy; sometimes when my blood 
boil, I tink so now — oder time, I no know what to tink — 
but when a man love very much, he hate very much.” 

“But you are now a Christian, Mesty.” 

“I hear all that your people say,” replied the negro, 
“and it make me tink — I no longer believe in fetish, any- 
how.” 

w Our religion tells us to love our enemies.” 

“Yes, I heard parson say dat— but den what we do with 
our friends, Massa Easy?” 

“Love them too.” 

“I no understand dat, Massa Easy — I love you, because 
you good, and treat me well — Mr. Vigors, he bully, and 
treat me ill — how possible to love him? By de power, I 
hate him, and wish I had him skull. You tink little 
Massa Gossett love him?” 

“No,” replied Jack, laughing, “I’m afraid that he 
would like to have his skull as well as you, Mesty — but at 
all events we must try and forgive those who injure us.” 

“Then, Massa Easy, I tink so too — too much revenge 
very bad — it is very easy to hate, but not very easy to 
forgive — so I tink that if a man forgive, he hab more soul 
in him, he more of a man.” 

“After all,” thought Jack, “Mesty is about as good a 
Christian as most people.” 


1 22 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


“What that?” cried Mesty, looking out of the cabin 
window. “Ah! d — mn drunken dogs; they set fire to 
tent.” 

Jack looked, and perceived that the tent on shore was 
in flames. 

“I tink these cold nights cool their courage, anyhow,” 
observed Mesty; “Massa Easy, you see they soon ask per- 
mission to come on board.” 

Jack thought so too, and was most anxious to be off; 
for, on looking into the lockers in the state-room, he had 
found a chart of the Mediterranean, which he had studied 
very attentively; he had found out the rock of Gibraltar, 
and had traced the Harpy’s course up to Cape de Gatte, 
and thence to Tarragona, and after a while had sum- 
moned Mesty to a cabinet council. 

“See, Mesty,” said Jack, “I begin to make it out; here 
is Gibraltar, and Cape de Gatte, and Tarragona; it was 
hereabout we were when we took the ship, and, if you rec- 
ollect, we had passed Cape de Gatte two days before we 
were blown off from the land, so that we had gone about 
twelve inches, and had only four more to go.” 

“Yes, Massa Easy; I see all dat.” 

“Well, then, we were blown off shore by the wind, and 
must of course have come down this way; and here, you 
see, are three little islands, called Zaffarine Islands, and 
with no names of towns upon them, and therefore unin- 
habited; and you see they lie just like the islands we are 
anchored among now; we must be at the Zaffarine 
Islands, and only six inches from Gibraltar.” 

“I see, Massa Easy, dat all right; but six debbilish 
long inches.” 

“Now, Mesty, you know the compass on deck has a 
flourishing thing for the north point, and here is a com- 
pass with a north point also. Now the north point from 
the Zaffarine Islands leads out to the Spanish coast again, 
and Gibraltar lies five or six points of the compass to this 
side of it; if we steer that way, we shall get to Gibraltar.” 

“All right, Massa Easy,” replied Mesty; and Jack was 
right, with the exception of the variation, which he knew 
nothing about. 

To make sure, Jack brought one of the compasses down 
from deck, and compared them. He then lifted off the 
glass, counted the points of the compass to the westward, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


123 


and marked the corresponding one on the binnacle com- 
pass with his pen. 

“There,” said he, “that is the way to Gibraltar, and 
as soon as the mutiny is quelled, and the wind is fair. I’ll 
be off.” 


CHAPTER XVI, 

IN WHICH JACK’S CRUISE IS ENDED AND HE REGAINS 
THE HARPY. 

A few more days passed, and, as was expected, the 
mutineers could hold out no longer. In the first place, 
they had put in the spile of the second cask of win fc e so 
loosely when they were tipsy, that it dropped out, and all 
the wine ran out, so that there had been none left for 
three or four days; in the next their fuel had long been 
expended, and they had latterly eaten their meat raw; 
the loss of their tent, which had been fired by their care- 
lessness, had been followed by four days and nights of 
continual rain. Everything they had, had been soaked 
through and through, and they were worn out, shivering 
with cold, and starving. Hanging they thought better 
than dying by inches from starvation; and, yielding to 
the imperious demands of hunger, they came down to the 
beach, abreast of the ship, and dropped down on their 
knes. 

“I tell you so, Massa Easy,” said Mesty; “d — mn ras- 
cals, they forget they come down and fire muskets at us 
every day. By all de powers, Mesty not forget it!” 

“Ship ahoy!” cried one of the men on shore. 

“What do you want?” replied Jack. 

“Have pity on us, sir — mercy!” exclaimed the other 
men; “we will return to our duty.” 

“Hebbil doubt ’em!” 

“What shall I say, Mesty?” 

“Tell ’em no, first, Massa Easy — tell ’em to starve and 
be d d.” 

“I cannot take mutineers on board,” replied Jack. 

“Well, then, our blood be on your hands, Mr. Easy,” 
replied the first man who had spoken. “If we are to die, 
it must not be by inches — if you will not take us tho 


124 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


sharks shall — it is but a crunch and all is over. What do 
you say, my lads? let’s all rush in together. Good-by, 
Mr. Easy, I hope you’ll forgive us when we’re dead ; it 
was all that rascal Johnson, the coxswain, who persuaded 
us. N Come, my lads, it’s no use thinking of it, the sooner 
done the better — let us shake hands, and then make one 
run of it.” 

It appeared that the poor fellows had already made up 
their minds to do this, if our hero, persuaded by Mesty, 
had refused to take them on board — they shook hands all 
round, and then walking a few yards from the beach, 
stood in a line while the man gave the signal — one — two. 

“Stop,” cried Jack, who had not forgotten the dread- 
ful scene which had already taken place — “stop!” 

The men paused. 

“What will you promise if I take you on board?” 

“To do our duty cheerfully till we join the ship, and 
then be hung as an example to all mutineers,” replied 
the men. 

“Dat very fair,” replied Mesty; “take dem at their 
word, Massa Easy.” 

“Very well,” replied Jack, “I accept your conditions; 
and we will come for you.” 

Jack and Mesty hauled up the boat, stuck their pistols 
in their belts, and pulled to the shore. The men, as they 
stepped in, touched their hats respectfully to our hero, 
but said nothing. On their arrival on board, Jack read 
that part of the articles of war relative to mutiny, by 
which the men were reminded of the very satisfactory 
fact that “they were to sutler death;” and then made a 
speech which, to men who were starving, appeared to be 
interminable. However, there is an end to everything in 
this world, and so there was to Jack’s harangue; after 
which Mesty gave them some biscuit, which they devoured 
in thankfulness until they could get something better. 
The next morning the wind was fair, they weighed their 
kedge with some difficulty, and ran out of the harbor; the 
men appeared very contrite, worked well but in silence, 
for they had no very pleasant anticipations; but hope 
always remains with us, and e&ch of the men, although he 
had no doubt but that the others would be hung, hoped 
that he would escape with a sound flogging. The wind, 
however, did not allow them to steer their course long; 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


125 


before night it was contrary, and they fell off three points 
to the northward. “However,” as Jack observed, “at all 
events we shall make the Spanish coast, and then we must 
run down it to Gibraltar; I don’t care — I understand 
navigation much better than I did.” 

The next morning they found themselves, with a very 
light breeze, under-high cape, and, as the sun rose, they 
observed a large vessel in-shore, about two miles to the 
westward of them, and another outside, about four miles 
off. Mesty took the glass and examined the one outside, 
which, on a sudden, had let fall all her canvas, and was 
now running for the shore, steering for the cape under 
which Jack’s vessel lay. Mesty put down the glass. 

“Massa Easy — I tink dat de Harpy.” 

One of the seamen took the glass and examined her, 
while the others who stood by showed great agitation. 

“Yes, it is the Harpy,” said the seaman. “Oh, Mr. 
Easy, will you forgive us?” continued the man, and he 
and the others fell on their knees. “Do not tell all, for 
God’s sake, Mr. Easy!” 

Jack’s heart melted; he looked at Mesty. 

“I tink,” said Mesty, apart to our hero, “dat with what 
them hab suffer already, suppose they get seven dozen 
apiece, dat quite enough.” 

Jack thought that even half that punishment would 
suffice; so he told the men that, although he must state 
what had occurred, he would not tell all, and would con- 
trive to get them off as well as he could. He was about 
to make a long speech, but a gun from the Harpy, which 
had now come up within range, made him defer it till a 
more convenient opportunity. At the same time the ves- 
sel in-shore hoisted Spanish colors and fired a gun. 

“By de powers, but we got in the middle of it,” cried 
Mesty; “Harpy tink us Spaniard. How, my lads, get all 
guns ready, bring up powder and shot. Massa, now us 
fire at Spaniard — Harpy not fire at us — no ab English 
colors on board — dat all we must do.” 

The men set to with a will; the guns were all loaded, 
and were soon cast loose and primed, during which opera- 
tions it fell calm, and the sails of all three vessels flapped 
against their masts. The Harpy was then about two 
miles from Jack’s vessel, and the Spaniard about a 
mile from him, with all her boats ahead of her towing 
toward him; Mesty examined the Spanish vessel. 


126 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Dat man-o’-*var, Massa Easy — what de debbil we do 
for color? Must hoist someting.” 

Mesty ran down below; he recollected that there was a 
very gay petticoat, which had been left by the old lady 
who was in the vessel when they captured her. It was of 
green silk with yellow and blue flowers, but very faded, 
having probably been in the don’s family for a century. 
Mesty had found it under the mattress of one of the beds, 
and had put it into his bag, intending probably to cut it 
up into waistcoats. He soon appeared with this under 
his arm, made it fast to the peak halyards, and hoisted it 
up. 

“Dere, massa, dat do very well — -dat what you call all 
nation color. Everybody strike him flag to dat — men 
nebber pull it down,” said Mesty, “anyhow. How den, 
ab hoist color, we fire away — mind you only fire one gun 
at a time, and point um well, den ab time to load again.” 

“She’s hoisted her colors, sir,” said Sawbridge, on 
board of the Harpy; “but they do not show out clear, 
and it’s impossible to distinguish them; but there’s a 
gun.” 

“It’s not at us, sir,” said Gascoigne, the midshipman; 
“it’s at the Spanish vessel — I saw the shot fall ahead of 
her.” 

“It must be a privateer,” said Captain Wilson; “at all 
events, it is very fortunate, for the corvette would other- 
wise have towed into Carthagena. Another gun, round 
and grape, and well pointed too; she carries heavy mettle, 
that craft; she must be a Maltese privateer.” 

“That’s as much as to say that she’s a pirate,” replied 
Sawbridge; “I can make nothing of her colors — they ap- 
pear to me to be green — she must be a Turk. Another 
gun— -and devilish well aimed; it has hit the boats.” 

“Yes, they are all in confusion; we will have her now, 
if we can only get a trifle of wind. That is a breeze com- 
ing up in the offing. Trim the sails, Mr. Sawbridge.” 

The yards were squared, and the Harpy soon had 
steerage way. In the mean time Jack and his few men 
had kept up a steady, well-directed, although slow fire, 
with their larboard guns upon the Spanish corvette; and 
two of her boats had been disabled. The Harpy brought 
the breeze up with her, and was soon within range; she 
steered to cut off the corvette, firing only her bow-chasers. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 

“We ab her now,” cried Mesty;' 4 ‘fire away, men — take 
good aim. Breeze come now; one man go to helm. By 
de power, what dat?” 

The exclamation of Mesty was occasioned by a shot 
hulling the ship on the starboard side. Jack and he ran 
over, and perceived that three Spanish gun-boats had just 
made their appearance round the point, and had attacked 
them. The fact was, that on the other side of the cape 
was the port and town of (Jarthagena, and these gun-boats 
had been sent out to the assistance of the corvette. The 
ship had now caught the breeze, fortunately for Jack, or 
he would probably have been taken into Carthagena; and 
the corvette, finding herself cut off by both the Harpy 
and Jack’s vessel, as soon as the breeze came up to her, 
put her head the other way, and tried to escape by run- 
ning westward along the coast close in-shore. Another 
shot, and then another, pierced the hull of the ship, and 
wounded two of Jack’s men; but as the corvette had 
turned, and the Harpy followed her, of course Jack did 
the same, and in ten minutes he was clear of the gun- 
boats, who did not venture to make sail and stand after 
him. The wind now freshened fast and blew out the 
green petticoat, but the Harpy was exchanging broadsides 
with the corvette, and too busy to look after Jack’s ensign. 
The Spaniard defended himself well, and had the assist- 
ance of the batteries as he passed, but there was no 
anchorage until he had run many miles further. About 
noon the wind died away, and at one o’clock it again fell 
nearly calm; but the Harpy had neared her distance, and 
was now within three cables’ length of her antagonist, 
engaging her <and a battery of four guns. Jack came up 
again, for he had the last of the breeze, and was about half 
a mile from the corvette when it fell calm. By the ad- 
vine of Mesty he did not fire any more, as otherwise the 
Harpy would not obtain so much credit, and it was evi- 
dent that the fire of the Spaniard slackened fast. At 
three o’clock the Spanish colors were hauled down, and 
the Harpy, sending a boat on board and taking possession, 
directed her whole fire upon the battery, which was soon 
silenced. 

The calm continued and the Harpy was busy enough 
with the prize, shifting the prisoners and refitting both 
vessels, which had very much suffered in the sails and 


128 


MR . MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


rigging. There was an occasional wonder on board the 
Harpy what that strange vessel might be who had turned 
the corvette and enabled them to capture her, but when 
people are all very busy, there is not much time for sur- 
mise. 

Jack’s crew, with himself, consisted but of eight, one 
of which was a Spaniard, and two were wounded. It 
therefore left him but four, and he had also something to 
do, which was to assist his wounded men, and secure his 
guns. Moreover, Mesty did not think it prudent to leave 
the vessel a mile from the Harpy with only two on board; 
besides, as Jack said, he had had no dinner, and was not 
quite sure that he should find anything to eat when he 
went into the midshipman’s berth ; he would therefore have 
some dinner cooked, and eat it before he went on board; 
in the mean time, they would try and close with her. 
Jack took things always very easy, and he said he should 
report himself at sunset. There were other reasons which 
made Jack in no very great hurry to go on board; he 
wanted to have time to consider a little what he should 
say to excuse himself, and also how he should plead for 
the men. His natural correctness of feeling decided 
him, in the first place, to tell the whole truth, and in the 
next, his kind feelings determined him to tell only part 
of it. Jack need not have given himself this trouble, for 
as far as regarded himself, he had fourteen thousand good 
excuses in the bags which lay in the state-room ; and as 
for the men, after an action with the enemy, if they be- 
have well, even mutiny is forgiven. At last, Jack' who 
was tired with excitement and the hard work of the day, 
thought and thought until he fell fast asleep, and in- 
stead of waking at sunset, did not wake till two hours 
afterward; and Mesty did not call him, because he was in 
no hurry himself to go orv board and boil de kettle for de 
young gentlemen. 

When Jack woke up, he was astonished to find that he 
had slept so long; he went on deck; it was dark and still 
calm, but he could easily perceive that the Harpy and 
corvette were still hove to, repairing damages. He or- 
dered the men to lower down the small boat, and leaving 
Mesty in charge, with two oars he pulled to the Harpy. 
What w r ith wounded men, with prisoners, and boats going 
and coming between the vessels, every one on board the 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


129 


Harpy was well employed; and in the dark, Jack’s little 
boat came alongside without notice. This should not 
have been the case, but it was, and there was some excuse 
for it. Jack ascended the side and pushed his way 
through the prisoners, who were being mustered to be 
victualed. He was wrapped up in one of the gregos, and 
many of the prisoners wore the same. 

Jack was amused at not being recognized; he slipped 
down the main ladder, and had to stoop under the ham- 
mocks of the wounded men, and was about to go aft to 
the captain’s cabin to report himself, when he heard 
young Gossett crying out, and the sound of the rope. 

‘‘Hang me, if that brute Vigors ain’t thrashing young 
Gossett,” thought Jack. “I dare say the poor fellow has 
had plenty of it since I have been away; I’ll save him this 
time at least.” 

Jack, wrapped up in his grego, went to the window of 
the berth, looked in, and found it was as he expected. 
He cried out in an angry voice, “Mr. Vigors , I’ll thank 
you to leave Gossett alone.” 

At the sound of the voice Vigors turned round with his 
colt in his hand, saw Jack’s face at the window, and, im- 
pressed with the idea that the reappearance was super- 
natural, uttered a yell and fell down in a fit — little Gossett 
also, trembling in every limb, stared with his mouth open. 
Jack was satisfied, and immediately disappeared. He 
then went aft to the cabin, pushed by the servant, who 
was giving some orders from the captain to the officer on 
deck, and entering the cabin where the captain was seated 
with two Spanish officers, took oif his hat and said: 

4 ‘Come on board, Captain Wilson.” 

Captain Wilson did not fall down in a fit, but he 
jumped up and upset the glass before him. 

“Merciful God! Mr. Easy, where did you come from?” 

“From that ship astern, sir,” replied Jack. 

“That ship astern! what is she? Where have you been 
so long?” 

“It’s a long story, sir,” replied Jack, 

Captain Wilson extended his hand, and shook Jack’s 
heartily. 

“At all events, I am delighted to see you, boy. Now 
sit down, and tell me your story in a few words; we will 
have it in detail by andjby.” 


130 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“If you please, sir,” said Jack, “we captured that ship 
with the cutter the night after we went away ; I am not a 
first-rate navigator, and I was blown to the Zaffarine 
Islands, where I remained two months fc*r want of hands; 
as soon as I procured them, I made sail again. I have 
lost three men by sharks, and I have two wounded in to- 
day’s fight. The ship mounts twelve guns, is half-laden 
with lead and cotton prints, has fourteen thousand dollars 
in the cabin, and three shot-holes right through her; and 
the sooner you send some people on board of her the 
better.” 

This was not very intelligible; but that there were 
fourteen thousand dollars, and that she required hands 
sent on board, was very satisfactorily explained. Captain 
Wilson rang the hell, sent for Mr. Asper, who started 
back at the sight of our hero — desired him to order Mr. 
Jolliffe to go on board with one of the cutters, send the 
wounded men on hoard, and take charge of the vessel ; 
and then told Jack to accompany Mr. Jolliffe, and to give 
him every information, telling him that he would hear his 
story to-morrow, when they were not so very busy. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS OUT THAT TRIGONOMETRY 
IS NOT ONLY NECESSARY TO NAVIGATION, BUT MAY 
BE REQUIRED IN SETTLING AFFAIRS OF HONOR. 

As Captain Wilson truly said, he was too busy even to 
hear Jack’s story that night, for they were anxious to 
have both vessels ready to make sail as soon as a breeze 
should spring up, for the Spaniards had vessels of war at 
Carthagena, which was not ten miles off, and had known 
the result of the action. It was therefore necessary to 
change their position as soon as possible. Mr. Sawbridge 
was on board the prize, which was a corvette mounting 
two guns more than the Harpy, and called the Cacafuogo. 

She had escaped from Cadiz, run through the straits in 
Hie night, and was three miles from Carthagena when she 
was captured, which she certainly never would have been, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


131 


but for Jack’s fortunately blundering against the cape 
with his armed vessel, so that Captain Wilson and Mr. 
Sawbridge (both of whom were promoted, the first to the 
rank of post-captain, the second to that of commander) 
may be said to be indebted to Jack for their good fortune. 
The Harpy had lost nineteen men, killed and wounded, 
and the Spanish corvette forty-seven. Altogether, it was 
a very creditable affair. 

At two o’clock in the morning the vessels were 
ready; everything had been done that could be done 
in so short a time, and they stood under easy sail 
during the night for Gibraltar, the Nostra Signora 
del Carmen, under the charge of Jolliffe, keeping 
company. Jolliffe had the advantage over his ship- 
mates of first hearing Jack’s adventures, with which 
he was much astonished as well as amused; even Captain 
Wilson was not more happy to see Jack than was the 
worthy master’s mate. About nine o’clock the Harpy 
hove to, and sent a boat on board for our hero and the 
men who had been so long with him in the prize, and 
then hoisted out the pinnace to fetch on board the dollars, 
which were of more importance. Jack, as he bade adieu 
to Jolliffe, took out of his pocket, and presented him with 
the articles of war, which, as they had been so useful to 
him, he thought Jolliffe could not do without, and then 
went down the side; the men were already in the boat, 
casting imploring looks upon Jack, to raise feelings of 
compassion, and Mesty took his seat by our hero in a very 
sulky humor, probably because he did not like the idea of 
having again to “boil de kettle for de young gentlemen.” 
Even Jack felt a little melancholy at resigning liis com- 
mand, and he looked back at the green petticoat, which 
blew out gracefully from the mast, for Jolliffe had deter- 
mined that he would not haul down the colors under which 
Jack had fought so gallant an action. 

Jack’s narration, as may be imagined, occupied a large 
part of the forenoon; and, although Jack did not attempt 
to deny that he had seen the recall signal of Mr. Saw- 
bridge, yet, as his account went on, the captain became 
so interested that at the end of it he quite forgot to 
point out to Jack the impropriety of not obeying orders. 
He gave Jack great credit for his conduct, and was also 
much pleased with that of Mesty. Jack took the oppor- 


132 


Mil MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


trinity of stating Mesty’s aversion to his present employ- 
ment, and his recommendation was graciously received. 
Jack also succeeded in obtaining the pardon of the men, 
in consideration of their subsequent good behavior; but 
notwithstanding this promise on the part of Captain 
Wilson, they were ordered to be put in irons for the 
present. However, Jack told Mesty, and Mesty told the 
men, that they would he released with a reprimand when 
they arrived at Gibraltar, so all that the men cared for 
was a fair wind. 

Captain Wilson informed Jack that after his joining 
the admiral, he had been sent to Malta with the prizes; 
and that supposing the cutter to have been sunk, he had 
written to his father, acquainting him with his son’s 
death, at which our hero was much grieved, for he knew 
what sorrow it would occasion, particuarly - to his poor 
mother. “But,” thought Jack, “if she is unhappy for 
three months, she will he overjoyed for three more when 
she hears that I am alive, so it will he all square at the end 
of the six; and as soon as I arrive at Gibraltar, I will 
write, and as the wind is fair, that will be to-morrow or 
next day.” 

After a long conversation Jack was graciously dismissed, 
Captain Wilson being satisfied from what he had heard 
that Jack would turn out a very good officer, and had 
already forgotten all about equality and the rights of man ; 
hut there Captain Wilson was mistaken — tares sown in 
infancy are not so soon rooted out. 

Jack went on deck as soon as the captain had dismissed 
him, and found the captain and officers of the Spanish 
corvette standing aft looking very seriously at the Nostra 
Signora del Carmen. When they saw our hero, who 
Captain Wilson had told them was the young officer who 
had barred their entrance into Carthagena, they turned 
their eyes upon him, not quite so graciously as they might 
have done. 

Jack, with his usual politeness, took off his hat to the 
Spanish captain, and glad to have an opportunity of sport- 
ing his Spanish, expressed the usual wish, that he might 
live a thousand years. The Spanish captain, who had 
reason to wish that Jack had gone to the devil at least 
twenty-four hours before, was equally complimentary, and 
then begged to be informed what the colors were that 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


133 

-ack had hoisted during the action. Jack replied 
that they were colors to which every Spanish gentleman 
considered it no disgrace to surrender, although always 
ready to engage, and frequently attempting to board. 
Upon which the Spanish captain was very much puzzled. 
Captain Wilson, who understood a little Spanish, then 
interrupted by observing: 

I “By the bye, Mr. Easy, what colors did you hoist up? 
l we could not make them out. I see Mr. Jolliffe still 
keeps them up at the peak.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack, rather puzzled what to call 
them, but at last he replied that “it was the banner of 
equality and the rights of man.” 

Captain Wilson frowned, and Jack perceiving that he 
was displeased, then told him the whole story, whereupon 
Captain Wilson laughed, and Jack then also explained, 
in Spanish, to the officers of the corvette, who replied 
that “it was not the first time, and would not be the last, 
that men had got into a scrape through a petticoat.” 

The Spanish captain complimented Jack on his Spanish, 
which was really very good (for in two months, with 
nothing else in the world to do, he had made great prog- 
ress), and asked him where he had learned it. 

Jack replied, “At the Zaffarine Islands.” 

“Zaffarine Isles,” replied the Spanish captain, “they 
are not inhabited.” 

“Plenty of ground sharks,” replied Jack. 

The Spanish captain thought our hero a very strange 
fellow, to fight under a green silk petticoat, and to take 
lessons in Spanish from the ground sharks. However, 
being quite as polite as Jack, he did not contradict him, 
but took a huge pinch of snuff, wishing from the bottom 
of his heart that the ground sharks had taken Jack be- 
fore he had hoisted that confounded green petticoat. 

However, Jack was in high favor with the captain, and 
all the ship’s company, with the exception of his four 
enemies — the master, Vigors, the boatswain, and the 
purser’s steward. As for Mr. Vigors, he had come to his 
senses again, and had put his colt in his chest until Jack 
should take another cruise. Little Gossett, at any insult- 
ing remark made by Vigors, pointed to the window of the 
berth and grinned, and the very recollection made Vigors 
turn pale, and awed him into silence. 


134 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


In two days they arrived at Gibraltar — Mr. Sawbridgo 
rejoined the ship — so did Mr. Jolliffe — they remained 
there a fortnight, during which Jack was permited to be 
continually on shore — Mr. Asper accompanied him, and 
Jack drew a heavy bill to prove to his father that he was 
still alive. Mr. Sawbridge made our hero relate to him 
all his adventures, and was so pleased with the conduct of 
Mesty that he appointed him to a situation which was 
particularly suited to him — that of ship’s corporal. Mr. 
Sawbridge knew that it was an office of trust, and pro- 
vided that he could find a man fit for it, he was very in- 
different about his color. Mesty walked and strutted 
about at least three inches taller than he was before. He 
was always clean, did his duty conscientiously, and seldom 
used his cane. 

“I think, Mr. Easy,” said the first lieutenant, “that as 
you are so particularly fond of taking a cruise,” for Jack 
had told the whole truth, “it migh't be as well that you 
improve your navigation.” 

“I do think myself, sir,” replied Jack with great mod- 
esty, “that I am not yet quite perfect.” 

“Well, then, Mr. Jolliffe will teach you; he is the most 
competent in this ship; the sooner you ask him the better, 
and if you learn it as fast as you have Spanish, it will not 
give you much trouble.” 

Jack thought the advice good; the next day he was 
very busy with his friend Jolliffe, and made the important 
discovery that two parallel lines continued to infinity 
would never meet. 

It must not be supposed that Captain Wilson and Mr. 
Sawbridge received their promotion instanter. Promo- 
tion is always attended with delay, as there is a certain 
routine in the service which must not be departed from. 
Captain Wilson had orders to return to Malta after his 
cruise. He therefore carried his own dispatches away 
from England — from Malta the dispatches had to ' be for- 
warded to Toulon to the admiral, and then the admiral 
had to send to England to the Admiralty, whose reply had 
to come out again. All this, with the delays arising from 
vessels not sailing immediately, occupied an interval of 
between five and six months — during which time there 
was no alteration in the officers and crew of his majesty’s 
sloop Harpy. 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


135 


There had, however, been one alteration; the gunner, 
Mr. Minus, who had charge of the first cutter in the night 
action in which our hero was separated from his ship, 
carelessly loading his musket, had found himself minus 
his right hand, which, upon the musket going off' as he 
rammed down, had gone off too. He was invalided and 
sent home during Jack’s absence, and another had been 
appointed, whose name was Tallboys. Mr. Tallboys was 
a stout, dumpy man; with red face, and still redder 
hands; he had red hair and red whiskers, and he had read 
a great deal — for Mr. Tallboys considered that the gun- 
ner was the most important personage in the ship. He 
had once been a captain’s clerk, and having distinguished 
himself very much in cutting-out service, had applied for 
and received his warrant as a gunner. He had studied 
the “Art of Gunnery,” a part of which he understood, 
but the remainder was above his comprehension; he con- 
tinued, however, to read it as before, thinking that by 
constant reading he should understand it at last. He had 
gone through the work from the title-page to th q finis, at 
least forty times, and had just commenced it over again. 
He never came on deck without the gunner’s vade mecum 
in his pocket, with his hand always upon it to refer to it 
in a moment. 

But Mr. Tallboys had, as we observed before, a great 
idea of the importance of a gunner, and among other 
qualifications, he considered it absolutely necessary that 
he should be a navigator. He had at least ten instances 
to bring forward of bloody actions, in which the captain 
and all the commissioned officers had been killed or 
wounded, and the command of the ship had devolved 
upon the gunner. 

“Now, sir,” would he say, “if the gunner is no navi- 
gator, he is not fit to take charge of his majesty’s ships. 
The boatswain and carpenter are merely practical men; 
but the gunner, sir, is, or ought to be, scientific. Gun- 
nery, sir, is a science — we have our own disparts and our 
lines of sight — our windage and our parabolas and pro- 
jectile forces — and our point-blank, and our reduction of 
powder upon a graduated scale. Now, sir, there’s no ex- 
cuse for a gunner not being a navigator; for knowing his 
duty as a gunner, he has the same mathematical tools to 
work with.” Upon this principle, Mr. Tallbojs had 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


136 

added John Hamilton Moore to his library, and had ad' 
vanced about as far into navigation as he had in gunnery, 
that is, to the threshold, where he stuck fast, with ail his 
mathematical tools, which he did not know how to use. To 
do him justice, he studied for two or three hours every day, 
and it was not his fault if he did not advance — but his 
head was confused with technical terms : he mixed all up 
together, and disparts, sines and cosines, parabolas, tan- 
gents, windage, seconds, lines of sight, logarithms, pro- 
jectiles, and traverse sailing, quadrature and Gunter’s 
scale were all crowded together, in a brain which had 
not capacity to receive the rule of three. “Too much 
learning,” said Festus to the apostle, “hath made thee 
mad.” Mr. Tallboys had not wit enough to go mad, but 
his learning lay like lead upon his brain ; the more he 
read, the less he understood, at the same time that he 
became more satisfied with his supposed acquirements, 
and could not speak but in “mathematical parables.” 

“I understand, Mr. Easy,” said the gunner to him one 
day after they had sailed for Malta, “that you have en- 
tered into the science of navigation — at your age it was* 
high time.” 

“Yes,” replied Jack, “I can raise a perpendicular, at 
all events, and box the compass.” 

“Yes, but you have not yet arrived to the dispart of 
the compass.” 

“Not come to that yet,” replied Jack. 

“Are you aware that a ship sailing describes a parabola 
round the globe?” 

“Not come to that yet,” replied Jack. 

“And that any propelled body striking against another, 
flies off at a tangent?” 

“Very likely,” replied Jack; “that’s a sine that he 
don’t like it.” 

“You have not yet entered into acute trigonometry?” 

“Not come to that yet,” replied Jack. 

“That will require very sharp attention.” 

“I should think so,” replied Jack. 

“You will then find out how your parallels of longitude 
and latitude meet.” 

“Two parallel lines, if continued to infinity, will never 
meet,” replied Jack. 

“I beg your pardon,” said the gunner. 


Mr. midshipman east. 


m 


“I beg yours, 7 ’ said Jack. 

Whereupon Mr. Tallboys brought up a small map of 
the world, and showed Jack that all the parallels of lati- 
tude met at a point at the top and the bottom. 

“Parahel lines never meet,” replied Jack, producing 
Hamilton Moore. 

Whereupon Jack and the gunner argued the point, until 
it was agreed to refer the case to Mr. Jolliffe, who asserted 
with a smile that ‘‘those lines were parallels and not 
parallels.” 

As both were right, both were satisfied. It was for- 
tunate that Jack would argue in this instance: had he 
believed all the confused assertions of the gunner, he 
would have been as puzzled as the gunner himself. They 
never met without an argument, and a reference, and as 
Jack was put right in the end, he only learned the faster. 
By the time that he did know something about naviga- 
tion, he discovered that his antagonist knew nothing. 
Before they arrived at Malta, Jack could fudge a day’s 
work. 

But at Malta Jack got into another scrape. Although 
Mr. Smallsole could not injure him, he was still Jack’s 
enemy; the more so as Jack had become very popular. 
Vigors also submitted, planning revenge; but the parties 
in this instance were the boatswain and purser’s steward. 
Jack still continued his forecastle conversations with 
Mesty; and the boatswain and purser’s steward, probably 
from their respective ill-will toward our hero, had become 
great allies. Mr. Easthupp now put on his best jacket 
to walk the dog-watches with Mr. Biggs, and they took 
every opportunity to talk at our hero. 

“It’s my peculiar hopinion,” said Mr. Easthupp, one 
evening, pulling at the frill of his shirt, “that a gentle- 
man should behave as a gentleman, and that if a gentle- 
man professes hopinions of hequality and such liberal sen- 
timents, that he is bound as a gentleman to hact up to 
them.” 

“Very true, Mr. Easthupp, he is bound to act up to 
them; and not because a person, who was a gentleman as 
well as himself, happens not to be on the quarter-deck, 
to insult him because he only has perfessed opinions like 
his own.” 

Hereupon Mr. Biggs struck b^ ~attan against the fun- 
Bel, and looked at our hf«o. 


IBB 


ME MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Yes,” continued the purser’s steward, “I should like 
to see the fellow who would have done so on shore ; how- 
ever, the time will come when I can hagain pull hon my 
plain coat, and then the hinsult shall be vashed hout in 
blood, Mr. Biggs.” 

“And I’ll be cursed if I don’t some day teach a lesson 
go the blackguard who stole my trousers.” 

“Vas hall your money right, Mr. Biggs?” inquired the 
purser’s steward. 

“I didn’t count,” replied the boatswain magnificently. 

“No — gentlemen are habove that,” replied Easthupp; 
“but there are many light-fingered gentry habout. The 
quantity of vatches and harticles of value vich vere lost 
ven I valked Bond Street in former times is incredible.” 

“I can say this, at all events,” replied the boatswain, 
“that I should be always ready to give satisfaction to any 
person beneath me in rank, after I had insulted him. I 
don’t stand upon my rank, although I don’t talk about 
equality, damme — no, nor consort with niggers.” 

All this was too plain for our hero not to understand, 
so Jack walked up to the boatswain, and taking his hat 
off, with the utmost politeness, said to him : 

“If I mistake not, Mr. Biggs, your conversation refers 
to me.” 

“Very likely it does,” replied the boatswain. “Listen- 
ers hear no good of themselves.” 

“It happears that gentlemen can’t converse without 
being vatched,” continued Mr. Easthupp, pulling up his 
shirt collar. 

“It is not the fkst time that you have thought proper 
to make very offensive remarks, Mr. Biggs; and as you 
appear to consider yourself ill-treated in the affair of the 
trousers, for I tell you at once that it was I who brought 
them on board, I can only say,” continued our hero, with 
a very polite bow, “that 1 shall be most happy to give you 
satisfaction.” 

“I am your superior officer, Mr. Easy,” replied the 
boatswain. 

“Yes, by the rules of the service; but you just now 
asserted that you would waive your rank — indeed, I dis- 
pute it on this occasion; I am on the quarter-deck, and 
you are not.” 

“This is the gentleman whom you have insulted, Mr. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


139 


Easy,” replied the boatswain, pointing to the purser’s 
steward. 

“Yes, Mr. Heasy, quite as good a gentleman as your- 
self, although I av ad misfortunes — I ham of as hold a 
family as hany in the country,” replied Mr. Easthupp, 
now hacked by the boatswain; “many the year did I valk 
Bond Street, and I ave as good blood in my weins as you, 
Mr. Heasy, halthough I av been misfortunate — I’ve 
ad hadmirals in my family.” 

“You have grossly insulted this gentleman,” said Mr. 
Biggs, in continuation; “and notwithstanding all your 
talk of equality, you are afraid to give him satisfaction — 
you shelter yourself under your quarter-deck.” 

“Mr. Bigg6,” replied our hero, who was now very 
wroth, “I shall go on shore directly we arrive at Malta. 
Let you, and this fellow, put on plain clothes, and I will 
meet you both — and then I’ll show you whether I am 
afraid to give satisfaction.” 

“One at a time,” said the boatswain. 

“No, sir, not one at a time, but both at the same time 
— I will fight both or none. If you are my superior offi- 
cer, you must descend ,” replied Jack, with an ironical 
sneer, “to meet me, or I will not descend to meet that 
fellow, whom I believe to have been little better than a 
pickpocket.” 

This accidental hit of Jack’s made the purser’s steward 
turn pale as a sheet, and then equally red. He raved and 
foamed amazingly, although he could not meet Jack’s 
indignant look, who then turned round again. 

“Now, Mr. Biggs, is this to be understood, or do you 
shelter yourself under your forecastle ?” 

“I’m no dodger,” replied the boatswain, “and we will 
settle the affair at Malta.” 

At which reply Jack returned to Mesty. 

“Massa Easy, I look at um face, dat fello, Eastop, he 
no like it. I go shore wid you, see fair play, anyhow — 
suppose I can?” 

Mr. Biggs having declared that he would fight, of 
course had to look out for a second, and he fixed upon 
Mr. Tallboys, the gunner, and requested him to be his 
friend. Mr. Tallboys, who had been latterly very much 
annoyed by Jack’s victories over him in the science of 
navigation, and therefore felt ill-will toward him, con- 


140 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


sented; but he was very much puzzled howto arrange 
that three were to fight at the same time, for he had no 
idea of there being two duels; so he went to his cabin and 
commenced reading. Jack, on the other hand, dared not 
say a word to Jolliffe on the subject; indeed, there was 
no one in the ship to whom he could confide but Gas- 
coigne; he therefore went to him, and although Gascoigne/ 
thought it was excessively infra dig. of Jack to meet even 
the boatswain, as the challenge had been given there was no 
retracting; he therefore consented, like all midshipmen, 
anticipating fun, and quite thoughtless of the conse- 
quences. 

The second day after they had been anchored in Yal- 
lette harbor, the boatswain and gunner, Jack and Gas- 
coigne, obtained permission to go on shore. Mr. East- 
hupp, the purser’s steward, dressed in his best blue coat 
with brass buttons and velvet collar, the very one in which 
he had been taken up when he had been vowing and pro- 
testing that he was a gentleman, at the very time that his 
hand was abstracting a pocket-book, went up on the 
quarter-deck, and requested the same indulgence, but Mr. 
Sawbridge refused, as he required him to return staves 
and hoops at the cooperage. Mesty also, much to his 
mortification, was not to be spared. 

This was awkward, but it was got over by proposing 
that the meeting should take place behind the cooperage 
at a certain hour, on which Mr. Easthupp might slip out 
and borrow a portion of^he time appropriated to his duty, 
to heal the breach in his wounded honor. So the parties 
all went on shore, and put up at one of the small inns to 
make the necessary arrangements. 

Mr. Tallboys then addressed Mr. Gascoigne, taking him 
apart while the boatswain amused himself with a glass of 
grog, and our hero sat outside, teasing a monkey. 

“Mr. Gascoigne,” said the gunner, “I have been very 
much puzzled how this duel should be fought, but I have 
at last found it out. You see that there are three parties 
to fight; had there been two or four there would have 
been no difficulty, as the right line or square might guide 
us in that instance; but we must arrange it upon the 
triangle in this.” 

Gascoigne stared; he could not imagine what was com- 
ing. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


141 


“Are yon aware, Mr. Gascoigne, of the properties of 
an equilateral triangle?” 

. “Yes,” replied the midshipman, “it has three equal 
sides — but what the devil has that to do with the duel?” 

“Everything, Mr. Gascoigne,” replied the gunner; “it 
has resolved the great difficulty; indeed, the duel be- 
tween three can only be fought upon that principle. You 
observe,” said the gunner, taking a piece of chalk out of 
his pocket, and making a triangle on the table, “in this 
figure we have three points, each equidistant from each 
other; and we have three combatants — so that placing 
one at each point, it is all fair play for the three. Mr. 
Easy, for instance, stands here, the boatswain here, and 
the purser’s steward at the third corner. Now, if the 
distance is fairly measured, it will be all right.” 

“But then,” replied Gascoigne, delighted at the idea, 
“how are they to fire?” 

“It certainly is not of much consequence,” replied the 
gunner, “but still, as sailors, it appears to me that they 
should fire with the sun; that is, Mr. Easy fires at Mr. 
Biggs, Mr. Biggs fires at Mr. Easthupp, and Mr. East- 
hupp fires at Mr. Easy, so that you perceive that each 
party has his shot at one, and at the same time receives 
the fire of another.” 

Gascoigne was in ecstasies at the novelty of the pro- 
ceeding, the more so as he perceived that Easy obtained 
every advantage by the arrangement. 

“Upon my word, Mr. Tallboys, I give you great credit; 
you have a profound mathematical head, and I am de- 
lighted with your arrangement. Of course, in these 
affairs the principals are bound to comply with the 
arrangements of the seconds, and I shall insist upon Mr. 
Easy consenting to your excellent and scientific proposal.” 

Gascoigne went out, and pulling Jack away from the 
monkey, told him what the gunner had proposed, ‘at which 
Jack laughed heartily. 

The gunner also explained it to the boatswain, who did 
not very well comprehend, but replied: 

“I dare say it’s all right — shot for shot, and d — mn all 
favors.” 

The parties then repaired to the spot with two pairs of 
ship’s pistols, which Mr. Tallboys had smuggled on shore; 
and, as soon as they were on the ground, the gunner called 


142 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Mr. Easthupp out of the cooperage. In the mean time 
Gascoigne had been measuring an equilateral triangle of 
twelve paces — and marked it out. Mr. Tallboys, on his 
return with the purser’s steward, went over the ground, 
and finding that it was “equal angles subtended by equal 
sides,” declared that it was all right. Easy took his sta- 
tion, the boatswain was put into his, and Mr. Easthupp, 
who was quite in a mystery, was led by the gunner to the 
third position. 

“But, Mr. Tallboys,” said the purser’s steward, “I 
don’t hunderstand this — Mr. Easy will first fight Mr. 
Biggs, will he not?” 

“No,” replied the gunner, “this is a duel of three. 
You will fire at Mr. Easy, Mr. Easy will fire at Mr. Biggs, 
and Mr. Biggs will fire at you. It is all arranged, Mr. 
Easthupp.” 

“But,” said Mr. Easthupp, “I do not hunderstand it. 
Why is Mr. Biggs to fire at me? I have no quarrel with 
Mr. Biggs.” 

“Because Mr. Easy fires at Mr. Biggs, and Mr. Biggs 
must have his shot as well.” 

“If you have ever been in the company of gentlemen, 
Mr. Easthupp,” observed Gascoigne, “you must know 
something about dueling.” 

“Yes, yes, I’ve kept the best company, Mr. Gascoigne, 
and I can give a gentleman satisfaction; but •” 

“Then, sir, if that is the case, you must know that your 
honor is in the hands of your second, and that no gentle- 
man appeals.” 

“Yes, yes, I know that, Mr. Gascoigne, but still I’ve 
no quarrel with Mr. Biggs, and therefore, Mr. Biggs, of 
course you will not haim at me.” 

“Why, you don’t think that I’m going to be fired at 
for nothing,” replied the boatswain; “no, no, I’ll have 
my shot anyhow.” 

“But at your friend, Mr. Biggs?” 

“All the same, I shall fire at somebody; shot for shot, 
and hit the luckiest.” 

“Vel, gentlemen, I purtest against these proceedings,” 
replied Mr. Easthupp; “I came here to have satisfaction 
from Mr. Easy, and not to be fired at by Mr. Biggs.” 

“Don’t you have satisfaction when you fire at Mr. 
Easy?” replied the gunner; “what more would you have?” 


ME. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


143 


“ I pnrtest against Mr. Biggs firing at me.” 

“So you would have a shot without receiving one!” 
cried Gascoigne; “the fact is, that this fellow’s a con- 
founded coward, and ought to be kicked into the cooper- 
age again.” 

At this affront Mr. Easthupp rallied, and accepted the 
pistol offered by the gunner. 

“You ear those words, Mr. Biggs; pretty language to use 
to a gentleman. You shall ear from me, sir, as soon as the 
ship is paid off. I purtest no longer, Mr. Tallboys, death 
before dishonor — I’m a gentleman, damme!” 

At all events, the swell was not a very courageous gen- 
tleman, for he trembled most exceedingly as he pointed 
his pistol. 

The gunner gave the word as if he were exercising the 
great guns on hoard ship. 

“Cock your locks!” — “Take good aim at the object!” 
“Fire!” — “Stop your vents!” 

The only one of the combatants who appeared to com- 
ply with the latter supplementary order was Mr. East- 
hupp, who clapped his hand to his trousers behind, gave 
aloud yell, and then dropped down; the bullet having 
passed clean through his seat of honor, from his having pre- 
sented his broadside as a target to the boatswain as he faced 
toward our hero. Jack’s shot had also taken effect, having 
passed through both of the boatswain’s cheeks, without 
further mischief than extracting two of his best upper 
double teeth, and forcing through the hole of the further 
cheek the boatswain’s own quid of tobacco. As for Mr. 
Easthupp’s ball, as he was very unsettled, and shut his 
eyes before he fired, it had gone, the Lord knows where. 

The purser’s steward lay on the ground and screamed — 
the boatswain spit his double teeth and two or three 
mouthfuls of blood out, and then threw down his pistols 
in a rage. 

“A pretty business, by God,” sputtered he; “he’s put 
my pipe out. How the devil am I to pipe to dinner 
when I’m ordered, all my wind ’scaping through the 
cheeks?” 

In the mean time, the others had gone to the assistance 
of the purser’s steward, who continued his vociferations. 
They examined him, and considered a wound in that part 
not to be dangerous. 


144 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“Hold yonr confounded bawling,” cried the gunner, 
“or you’ll have the guard down here; you’re not hurt.” 

“Hain’t hi !” roared the steward; “oh, let me die, let 
me die; don’t move me!” 

“Nonsense,” cried the gunner, “you must get up and 
walk down to the boat; if you don’t, we’ll leave you — • 
hold your tongue, confound you. You won’t? then I’ll 
give you something to halloo for.” 

Whereupon Mr. Tallboys commenced cuffing the poor 
wretch right and left, who received so many swinging 
boxes of the ear that he was soon reduced to merely piti- 
ful plaints of “Oh, dear! — such inhumanity — I purtest — 
oh, dear! must I get up? I can’t, indeed.” 

“I do not think he can move, Mr. Tallboys,” said Gas- 
coigne; “I should think the best plan would be to call up 
two of the men from the cooperage, and let them take 
him at once to the hospital.” 

The gunner went down to the cooperage to call the 
men. Mr. Biggs, who had bound up his face as if he had 
a toothache, for the bleeding had been very slight, came 
up to the purser’s steward. 

“What the hell are you making such a howling about? 
Look at me, with two shot-holes through my figure-head, 
while you have only got one in your stern. I wish I could 
change with you, by heavens ! for I could use my whistle 
then. Now if I attempt to pipe, there will be such a 
wasteful expenditure of his majesty’s store of wind, that I 
shall never get out a note. A wicked shot of yours, Mr. 
Easy.” 

“I really am very sorry,” replied Jack with a polite 
bow, “and I beg to offer my best apology.” 

During this conversation the purser’s steward felt very 
faint, and thought he was going to die. 

“Oh, dear! oh, dear! what a fool I was! I never was a 
gentleman — only a swell. I shall die; I never will pick a 
pocket again — never — never. God forgive me!” 

“Why, confound the fellow!” cried Gascoigne, “so you 
were a pickpocket, were you?” 

“I never will again,” replied the fellow in a faint voice; 
“hi’ll ham end, and lead a good life. A drop of water — 
oh! lagged at last!” 

Then the poor wretch fainted away; and Mr. Tallboys 
coming up with the men, he was taken on their shoulders 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . * 


145 


and walked off to the hospital, attended by the gunner 
and also the boatswain, who thought he might as well 
have a little medical advice before he went on board. 

“Well, Easy/’ said Gascoigne, collecting the pistols 
and tying them in his handkerchief, “I’ll be shot, but 
we’re in a pretty scrape; there’s no hushing this up. 
I’ll be hanged if I care; it’s the best piece of fun I ever 
met with.” And at the remembrance of it, Gascoigne 
laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. Jack’s mirth 
was not quite so excessive, as he was afraid that the purs- 
er’s steward was severely hurt, and expressed his fears. 

“At all events, you did not hit him,” replied Gascoigne; 
“all you have to answer for is the boatswain’s mug. I 
think you’ve stopped his jaw for the future.” 

“I’m afraid that our leave will be stopped for the 
future,” replied Jack. 

“That we may take our oaths of, replied Gascoigne. 

“Then look you, Ned,” said Easy, “I’ve lots of dollars; 
we may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, as the 
saying is. I vote that we do not go on board.” 

“Sawbridge will send and fetch us,” replied Ned; “but 
he must find us first.” 

“That won’t take long, for the soldiers will soon have 
our description, and rout us out; we shall be pinned in 
a couple of days.” 

“Confound it! and they say that the ship is to be hove- 
down, and that we shall be here six weeks at least, cooped 
up on board in a broiling sun, and nothing to do but to 
watch the pilot fish playing round the rudder, and munch 
bad apricots. I won’t go on board; look ye, Jack,” said 
Gascoigne, “have you plenty of money?” 

“I have twenty doubloons besides dollars,” replied 
Jack. 

“Well, then, we will pretend to be so much alarmed at 
the result of this duel that we dare not show ourselves, 
lest we should be hung. I will write a note and send it 
to Jolliffe, to say that we have hid ourselves until the 
affair is blown over, and beg him to intercede with the 
captain and first lieutenant. I will tell him all the par- 
ticulars, and refer to the gunner for the truth of it; and 
then I know that although we should be punished, they 
will only laugh; but I will pretend that Easthupp is 
killed, and we are frightened out of our lives. That will 


146 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


be it; and then let’s get on board one of the speronares 
which come with fruit from Sicily, sail in the night for 
Palermo, and then we’ll have a cruise for a fortnight, and 
when the money is all gone, we’ll come back.” 

“That’s a capital idea, Ned, and the sooner we do it 
the better. I will write to the captain, begging him to 
get me off from being hung, and telling him where we 
have fled to, and that letter shall be given after we have 
sailed.” 

They were two very nice lads — our hero and Gascoigne. 


CHAPTEK XVIII. 

IN' WHICH OUR HERO SETS OFF ON ANOTHER CRUISE, IN 
WHICH HE IS NOT BLOWN OFF SHORE. 

Gascoigne and our hero were neither of them in uni- 
form, and they hastened to Nix Mangare stairs, where 
they soon picked up the padrone of a speronare. They 
went with him into a wine-shop, and with the assistance 
of a little English from a Maltese boy, whose shirt hung 
out of his trousers, they made a bargain, by which it was 
agreed that for the consideration of two doubloons, he 
would sail that evening, and land them at Gergenti or 
some other town in Sicily, providing them with something 
to eat and gregos to sleep upon. 

Our two midshipmen then went back to the tavern from 
which they had set off to fight the duel, and ordering a 
good dinner to be served in a back room, they amused 
themselves with killing flies, as they talked over the 
events of the day, and waited for their dinner. 

As Mr. Tallboys did not himself think proper to go on 
board till the evening, and Mr Biggs also wished it to 
be dark before he went up the ship’s side, the events of 
the duel did not transpire till the next morning. Even 
then it was not known from the boatswain or gunner, but 
by a hospital mate coming on board to inform the surgeon 
that there was one of their men wounded under their 
charge; but that he was doing very well. 

Mr. Biggs had ascended the side with his face bound 
up. 


MR. MltosmPMAi V past. 


14 ? 


“Confound that Jack Easy !” said lie.' “I have only 
been on leave twice since I sailed from Portsmouth; once 
I was obliged to come up the side without my trousers, 
and show my bare stern to the whole ship’s company, and 
now I am coming up, and dare not show my figure-head.” 
He reported himself to the officer of the watch, and 
hastening to his cabin, went to bed, and lay the whole 
night awake from pain, thinking what excuse he could' 
possibly make for not coming on deck next morning to his 
duty. 

He was, however, saved this troube, for Mr. Jolliffe 
brought the letter of Gascoigne up to Mr. Sawbridge, and 
the captain had received that of our hero. 

Captain Wilson came on board and found that Mr. 
Sawbridge could communicate all the particulars of which 
he had not been acquainted by Jack; and after they had 
read over Gascoigne’s letter in the cabin and interrogated 
Mr. Tallboys, who was sent down under an arrest, they 
gave free vent to their mirth. 

‘‘Upon my soul, there’s no end to Mr. Easy’s adven- 
tures,” said the captain. “I could laugh at the duel, for, 
after all, it is nothing — and he would have been let off 
with a severe reprimand ; but the foolish boys have set off 
in a speronare to Sicily, and how the devil are we to get 
them back again?” 

“They’ll come back, sir,” replied Sawbridge, “when 
all their money’s gone.” 

“Yes, if they do not get into any more scrapes — that 
young scamp Gascoigne is as bad as Easy, and now they 
are together there’s no saying what may happen. I dine 
at the governor’s to-day; how he will laugh when I tell 
him of this new way of fighting a duel!” 

“Yes, sir, it is just the thing that will tickle old Tom.” 

“We must find out if they have got off the island, Saw- 
bridge, which may not be the case.” 

But it was the case; Jack and Gascoigne had eaten a 
very good dinner, sent for the monkey to amuse them till 
it was dark, and then had waited till the padrone came 
to them. 

“What shall we do with the pistols, Easy?” 

“Take them with us, and load them before we go — we 
may want them. Who knows but there may be a mutiny 
on board of the speronare? X wish we had Mesty with us.” 


14B 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAS?. 


They loaded'the pistols, took a pair each and put them 
in their waists, concealed nnder their clothes — divided 
the ammunition between them, and soon afterward the 
padrone came to tell them all was ready. 

Whereupon Messrs. Gascoigne and Easy paid their bill 
and rose to depart, but the padrone informed them that 
he should like to see the color of their money before they 
went on board. Jack, very indignant at the insinuation 
that he had not sufficient cash, pulled out a handful of 
doubloons, and tossing two to the padrone, asked him if 
he was satisfied. The padrone untied his sash, put in the 
money, and with many thanks and protestations of serv- 
ice, begged our young gentlemen to accompany him. 
They did so, and in a few minutes were clear of Nix 
Mangare stairs, and, passing close to his majesty’s ship 
Harpy, were soon out of the harbor of Vallette. 

Of all the varieties of vessels which float upon the wave, 
there is not, perhaps, one that bounds over the water so 
gracefully or so lightly as a speronare, or any one so pic- 
turesque and beautiful to the eye of those who watch its 
progress. 

The night was clear, and the stars shone out brilliantly 
as the light craft skimmed over the water, and a frag- 
ment of a descending and waning moon threw its soft 
beams upon the snow-white sail. The vessel, which had 
no deck, was full of baskets, which had contained grapes 
and various fruits brought from the ancient granary of 
Rome, still as fertile and as luxuriant as ever. The crew 
consisted of the padrone, two men, and a boy; the three 
latter, with their gregos, or night great-coats with hoods, 
sitting forward before the sail, with their eyes fixed on 
*the land, as they flew past point after point, thinking per- 
haps of their wives,' or perhaps of their sweethearts, or 
perhaps not thinking at all. 

The padrone remained aft at the helm, offering every 
politeness to our two young gentlemen, who only wished to 
be left alone. At last they requested the padrone to give 
them gregos to lie down upon, as they wished to go to 
sleep. He called the boy to take the helm, procured them 
all they required, and then went forward. And our two 
midshipmen lay down looking at the stars above them 
for some minutes, without exchanging a word. At last 
Jack commenced: 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


149 


“I have been thinking, Gascoigne, that this is very 
delightful. My heart bounds with the vessel, and it 
almost appears to me as if the vessel herself was rejoicing 
in her liberty. Here she is capering over the waves in- 
stead of being tied by the nose with a cable and anchor.” 

“That’s a touch of the sentimental, Jack,” replied 
Gascoigne; “but she is no more free than she was when at 
anchor, for she now is forced to act in obedience to her 
steersman, and go just where he pleases. You may just 
as well say that a horse, if taken out of the stable, is free, 
with the curb and his rider on his back.” 

“That’s a touch of the rational, Ned, which destroys 
the illusion. Never mind, we are free, at all events. 
What machines we are on board of a man-of-war! We 
walk, talk, eat, drink, sleep, and get up, just like clock- 
work; we are wound up to go the twenty-four hours, and 
then wound up again; just like old Smallsole does the 
chronometers.” 

“Very true, Jack; but it does not appear to me that, 
hitherto, you have kept very good time; you require a 
little more regulating,” said Gascoigne. 

“How can you expect any piece of machinery to go 
well, so damnably knocked about as a midshipman is?” 
replied our hero. 

“Very true, Jack; but sometimes you don’t keep any 
time, for you don’t keep any watch. Mr. Asper don’t 
wind you up. You don’t go at all.” 

“No; because he allows me to go down ; but still I do 
go, Ned.” 

“Yes, to your hammock — but it’s no go with old Small- 
sole, if I want a bit of calk. But, Jack, what do you 
say — shall we keep watch to-night?” 

“Why, to tell you the truth, I have been thinking the 
same thing — I don’t much like the looks of the padrone — 
he squints.” 

“That’s no proof of anything, Jack, except that his 
eyes are not straight; but if you do not like the look of 
him, I can tell you that he very much liked the look of 
your doubloons — I saw him start and his eyes twinkled, 
and I thought at the time it was a pity you had not paid 
him in dollars.” 

“It was very foolish of me; but at all events he has not 

seen ali.” 


150 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


“Very true, but you shbuld have let him see the pistols, 
and not have let him see the doubloons.” 

“Well, if he wishes to take what he has seen, he shall 
receive what he has not seen — why, there are only four of 
them!” 

“Oh, I have no fear of them, only it may be as well to 
sleep with one eye open.” 

“When shall we make the land?” 

“To-morrow evening with this wind, and it appears to 
be steady. Suppose we keep watch and watch, and have 
our pistols out ready, with the great-coats just turned over 
them to keep them out of sight?” 

“Agreed— it’s about twelve o’clock now — who shall 
keep the middle watch?” 

“I will, Jack, if you like.” 

“Well, then, mind you kick me hard, for I sleep 
devilish sound. Good-night, and keep a sharp lookout.” 

Jack was fast asleep in less than ten minutes; and Gas- 
coigne, with his pistols lying by him all ready for each 
hand, sat up at the bottom of the boat. 

There certainly is a peculiar providence in favor of mid- 
shipmen compared with the rest of mankind; they have 
more lives than a cat — always in the greatest danger, but 
always escaping from it. 

The padrone of the vessel had been captivated with the 
doubloons which Jack had so foolishly exposed to his view, 
and he had, moreover, resolved to obtain them. At the 
very time that our two lads were conversing aft, the 
padrone was talking the matter over with his two men 
forward, and it was agreed that they should murder, rifle, 
and then throw them overboard. 

About two o’clock in the morning, the padrone came 
aft to see if they were asleep, but found Gascoigne watch- 
ing. He returned aft again and again, but found the 
young man still sitting up. Tired of waiting, anxious to 
possess the money, and not supposing that the lads were 
armed, he went once more forward and spoke to the 
men. 

Gascoigne had closely watched his motions; he thought 
it singular that with three men in the vessel, the helm 
should be confided to the boy — and at last he saw them 
draw their knives. He pushed our hero, who woke im- 
mediately. Gascoigne put his hand over Jack’s mouth, 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


151 


that he might not speak, and then whispered his sus- 
picions. Jack seized his pistols — they both cocked them 
without noise, and then waited in silence, Jack still lying 
down, while Gascoigne continued to sit up at the bottom 
of the boat. At last Gascoigne saw the three men coming 
aft —he dropped one of his pistols for a second to give 
Jack a squeeze of the hand, which was returned, and as 
Gascoigne watched them making their way through the 
piles of empty baskets, he leaned back as if he was slum- 
bering. The padrone, followed by the two men, was at 
last aft — they paused a moment before they stepped over 
the strengthening plank which ran from side to side of 
the boat, between them and the midshipmen, and as 
neither of them stirred, they imagined that both were 
asleep — advanced and raised their knives, when Jack and 
Gascoigne, almost at the same moment, each discharged 
their pistols into the breast of the padrone, and one of the 
men who was with him in advanpe, who both fell with the 
send aft of the boat, so as to encumber the midshipmen 
with the weight of their bodies. The third man started ‘ 
back. Jack, who could not rise, from the padrone lying 
across his legs, took a steady aim with his second pistol, 
and the third man fell. The boy at the helm, who, it 
appeared, either was aware of what was to be done, or 
seeing the men advance with their knives, had acted upon 
what he saw, also drew his knife and struck at Gas- 
coigne from behind ; the knife, fortunately, after slight- 
ly wounding Gascoigne on the shoulder, had shut on 
the boy’s hand — Gascoigne sprang up with his other pistol, 
the boy started back at the sight of it, lost his balance, 
and fell overboard. 

Our two midshipmen took a few seconds to breathe. 

“I say, Jack!” said Gascoigne at last, “did you 
ever ” 

“No, I never ” replied Jack. 

“What’s to be done now?” 

“Why, as we’ve got possession, Ned, we had better put 
a man at the helm — for the speronare is having it all her 
own way.” 

“Very true,” replied Gascoigne; “and as I can steer 
better than you, I suppose it must be me.” 

Gacsoigne went to the helm, brought the boat up to the 
wind, and then they resumed their conversation. 


152 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


4 ‘That rascal of a boy gave me a devil of a lick on the 
shoulder; I don’t know whether he has hurt me : — at all 
events it’s my left shoulder, so I can steer just as well. 
I wonder whether the fellows are dead.” 

“The padrone is, at all events,” replied Jack. “It was 
as much as I could do to get my legs from under him — 
but we’ll wait till daylight before we see to that — in the 
mean time, I’ll load the pistols again.” 

“The day is breaking now — it will be light in half an 
hour or less. What a devil of a spree, Jack!” 

“Yes, but how can one help it? we ran away because 
two men are wounded — and now we are obliged to kill 
four in self-defense.” 

“Yes, but that is not the end of it; when we get to 
Sicily what are we to do? we shall be imprisoned by the 
authorities — perhaps hung.” 

“We’ll argue that point with them,” replied Jack. 

“We had better argue the point between ourselves, 
Jack, and see what will be the best plan to get out of our 
scrape.” 

I think that we just have got out of it — never fear but 
we’ll get out of the next. Do you know, Gascoigne, it 
appears to me very odd, but I can do nothing but there’s 
a bobbery at the bottom of it.” 

“You certainly have a great talent that way, Jack. 
Don’t I hear one of these poor fellows groan?” 

“I should think that not impossible.” 

“What shall we do with them?” 

“We will argue that point, Ned — we must either keep 
their bodies or we must throw them overboard. Either 
tell the whole story or say nothing about it.” 

“That’s very evident; in short, we must do something, 
for your argument goes no futher. But now let us take 
up one of your propositions. Well, then, suppose we 
keep the bodies on board, run into a sea-port, go to the 
authorities and state all the facts, what then?” 

“We shall prove, beyond all doubt, that we have killed 
three men, if not four ; but we shall not prove that we 
were obliged so to do, Jack. And then we are heretics — 
we shall be put in prison till they are satified of our inno- 
cence, which we never can prove, and there we shall re- 
main until we have written to Malta, and a man-of-war 
comes to redeem us, if we are not stabbed, or something 
else, in the mean tim&v” 


Mn. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


153 


“That will not be a very pleasant cruise,” replied 
Jack. “Now let’s argue the point on the other side.” 

“There is some difficulty there — suppose we throw 
their bodies overboard, toss the baskets after them, wash 
the boat clean, and make for the first port. We may 
chance to hit upon the very spot from which they sailed, 
and then there will be a pack of wives, and children, and 
a populace with knives, asking us what has become of the 
men of the boat.” 

“I don’t much like the idea of that,” said Jack. 

“And if we don’t have such bad luck, still we shall be 
interrogated as to who we are, and how we were adrift by 
ourselves.” 

“There will be a difficulty about that again — we must 
swear that it is a party of pleasure, and that we are gen- 
tlemen yachting.” 

“Without a crew or provisions — yachts don’t sail with 
a clean-swept hold, or gentlemen without a spare shirt — 
we have nothing but two gallons of water and two pairs 
of pistols.” 

“I have it,” said Jack, “we are two young gentlemen 
in our own boat who went out to Gozo with pistols to 
shoot sea-mews, were caught in a gale, and blown down 
to Sicily — that will excite interest.” 

“That’s the best idea yet, as it will account for our 
having nothing in the boat. Well, then, at all events, we 
will get rid of the bodies; but suppose they are not dead 
— we cannot throw them overboard alive, that will be 
murder.” 

“Very true,” replied Jack, “then we must shoot them 
first and toss them overboard afterward.” 

“Upon my soul, Easy, you are an odd fellow — ’however, 
go and examine the men and we’ll decide that point by 
and by — you had better keep your pistol ready cocked, 
for they may be shamming.” 

“Devil a bit of sham here, anyhow,” replied Jack, pull- 
ing at the body of the padrone, “and as for this fellow 
you shot, you might put your fist into his chest. Now 
for the third,” continued Jack, stepping over the 
strengthening piece — “he’s all among the baskets. I say, 
my cock, are you dead?” and Jack enforced his question 
with a kick in the ribs. The man groaned. “That’s un- 
lucky, Gascoigne, but however, I’ll soon settle him,” said 
Jack, pointing his pistoL 


154 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Stop, Jack/’ cried Gascoigne, “it really will be 
murder.” 

“No such thing, Ned; I’ll just blow his brains out, 
and then Fill come aft and argue the point with you.” 

“Now do oblige me by coming aft and arguing the 
point first. Do, Jack, I beg of you — I entreat you.” 

“With all my heart,” replied Jack, resuming liis seat 
by Gascoigne; “I assert, that in this instance killing’s no 
murder. You will observe, Ned, that by the laws of 
society, any one who attempts the life of another has for- 
feited his own ; at the same time, as it is necessary that 
the fact should be clearly proved and justice be duly ad- 
ministered, the parties are tried, convicted, and then are 
sentenced to the punishment.” 

“I grant all that.” 

“In this instance the attempt has been clearly proved; 
we are the witnesses and are the judges and jury, and 
society in general, for the best of all possible reasons, be- 
cause there is nobody else. These men’s lives being 
therefore forfeited to society, belong to us; and it does 
not follow, because they were not all killed in the attempt, 
that therefore they are not now to be brought out for 
punishment. And as there is no 'common hangman here, 
we, of course, must do this duty as well as every other. 
I have now clearly proved that I am justified in what I 
am about to do. But the argument does not stop there 
— self-preservation is the first law of nature, and if we do 
not get rid of this man what is the consequence? That 
we shall have to account for his being wounded, and then, 
instead of judges, we shall immediately be placed in the 
position of culprits, and have to defend ourselves without 
witnesses. We therefore risk our lives from a misplaced 
lenity toward a wretch unworthy to live.” 

“Your last argument is strong, Easy, but I cannot con- 
sent to your doing what may occasion you uneasiness 
hereafter when you think of it.” 

“Pooh! nonsense — I’m a philosopher.” 

“Of what school, Jack? Oh, I presume, you are a 
disciple of Mesty’s. I do not mean to say that you are 
wrong, but still hear my proposition. Let us lower down 
the sail, and then I can leave the helm to assist you. We 
will clear the vessel of everything except the man who is 
still alive. At all events, we may wait a little, and if at 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


loo 


last there is no help for it, I will then agree with yon to 
launch him overboard, even if he is not quite dead.” 

“Agreed; even by your own making out, it will be no 
great sin. He is half-dead already — I only do half the 
work of tossing him over, so it will be only quarter mur- 
der on my part, and he would have shown no quarter on 
his.” Here Jack left off arguing and punning, and went 
forward and lowered down the sail. “I’ve half a mind 
to take my doubloons back,” said Jack, as they launched 
over the body of the padrone, “but he may have them — 
I wonder whether they’ll ever turn up again.” 

“Not in our time, Jack,” replied Gascoigne. 

The other body, and all the basket lumber, etc., were 
then tossed over, and the boat was cleared of all but the 
man who was not yet dead. 

“Now let’s examine the fellow, and see if he has any 
chance of recovery,” said Gascoigne. 

The man lay on his side; Gascoigne turned him over 
and found that he was dead. 

“Over with him, quick,” said Jack, “before hed comes 
to life again.” 

The body disappeared under the wave — they again 
hoisted the sail, Gascoigne took the helm, and our hero 
proceeded to draw water and wash away the stains of 
blood; he then cleared the boat of vine-leaves and rub- 
bish, with which it was strewn, swept it clean fore and 
aft, and resumed his seat by his comrade. 

“There,” said Jack, “now we’ve swept the decks, we 
may pipe to dinner. I wonder whether there is anything 
to eat in the locker?” 

Jack opened it, and found some bread, garlic, sausages, 
\ bottle of aquadente and a jar of wine. 

“So the padrone did keep hi£ promise, after all.” 

“Yes, and had you not tempted him with the sight of 
so much gold, might now have been alive.” 

“To which I reply, that if you had not advised our 
going off in a speronare, he would now have been alive.” 

“And if you had not fought a duel, I should not have 
given the advice.” 

“And if the boatswain had not been obliged to come on 
board without his trousers at Gibraltar, I should not have 
fought a duel.” 

“And if you had not joined the ship, the boatswain 
would have had his trousers on,” 


156 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“And if my father had not been a philosopher, I should 
not have gone to sea; so that it is all my father’s fault, 
and he has killed four men off the coast of Sicily, without 
knowing it — cause and effect. After all, there’s nothing 
like argument; so having settled that point, let us go to 
dinner.” 

Having finished their meal, Jack went forward and ob- 
served the land ahead; they steered the same course for 
three or four hours. 

“We must haul our wind more,” said Gascoigne; “it 
will not do to put into any small town ; we have now to 
choose whether we shall land on the coast and sink the 
speronare, or land at some large town.” 

“We must argue that point,” replied Jack. 

“In the mean time, do you take the helm, for my arm 
is quite tired,” replied Gascoigne; “you can steer well 
enough — by the bye, I may as well look at my shoulder, 
for it is quite stiff.” Gascoigne pulled off his coat, and 
found his shirt bloody and sticking to the wound, which, 
as we before observed, was slight. He again took the 
helm, while Jack washed it clean, and then bathed it with 
aquadente. 

“Now take the helm again,” said Gascoigne; “I’m on 
the sick list.” 

“And as surgeon — I’m an idler,” replied Jack; “but 
what shall we do?” continued he; “abandon the spero- 
nare at night and sink her, or run in for a town?” 

“We shall fall in with plenty of boats and vessels if we 
coast it up to Palermo, and they may overhaul us.” 

“We shall fall in with plenty of people if we go on 
shore, and they will overhaul us.” 

“Do you know, Jack, that I wish we were back and 
alongside of the Harpy; I’ve had cruising enough.” 

“My cruises are so unfortunate,” replied Jack; “they 
are too full of adventure; but, then, I have never yet had 
a cruise on shore. Now, if we could only get to Palermo, 
we should be out of all our difficulties.” 

“The breeze freshens, Jack,” replied Gascoigne; “and 
it begins to look very dirty to windward. I think we 
shall have a gale.” 

“Pleasant; I know what it is to be short-handed in a 
gale; however, there’s one comfort, we shall not be blown 
off shore this time,” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


157 


“No; but we may be wrecked on a lee-shore. She can- 
not carry her whole sail, Easy; we must lower it down, 
and take in a reef; the sooner the better, for it will be 
dark in an hour. Go forward and lower it down, and 
then I’ll help you.” 

Jack did so, but the sail went into the water, and he 
could not drag it in. 

* ‘Avast heaving,” said Gascoigne, “till I throw her up, 
and take the wind out of it.” 

This was done; they reefed the sail, but could not hoist 
it up; if Gascoigne left the helm, to help Jack, the sail 
filled ; if he went to the helm and took the wind out of 
the sail, Jack was not strong enough to hoist it. The 
wind increased rapidly, and the sea got up, the sun went 
down, and with the sail half-hoisted, they could not keep 
to the wind, but were obliged to run right for the land. 
The speronare flew, rising on the crest of the waves with 
half her keel clear of the water; the moon was already 
up, and gave them light enough to perceive that they 
were not five miles from the coast, which was lined with 
foam. 

“At all events, they can’t accuse us of running away 
with the boat,” observed Jack; “for she’s running away 
with us.” 

“Yes,” replied Gascoigne, dragging at the tiller with 
all his strength; “she has taken the bit between her 
teeth.” 

“I wouldn’t care if I had a bit between mine,” replied 
Jack, “for I feel devilish hungry again. What do you 
say, Ned?” 

“With all my heart,” replied Gascoigne; “but, do you 
know, Easy, it may be the last meal we ever make.” 

“Then I vote it’s a good one; but why so, Ned?” 

“In half an hour or thereabout, we shall be on shore.” 

“Well, that’s where we want to go.” 

“Yes; but the sea runs high, and the boat may be 
'dashed to pieces on the rocks.” 

“Then we shall be asked no questions about her or the 
men.” 

“Very true; but a lee-shore is no joke; we may be 
knocked to pieces, as well as the boat — even swimming 
may not help us. If we could find a cove or sandy beach, 
we might, perhaps, manage to get on shore,” 


158 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Well,” replied Jack, “I have not been long at sea, 
and of course cannot know much about these things. I 
have been blown off shore, hut I never have been blown 
on. It may be as you say, but I do not see the great dan- 
ger; let’s run her right up on the beach at once.” 

“That’s what I shall try to do,” replied Gascoigne, who 
*3 had been four years at sea, and knew very well what he 
was about. 

Jack handed him a huge piece of bread and sausage. 

“Thank ye; I cannot eat.” 

“I can,” replied Jack with his mouth full. 

Jack ate while Gascoigne steered, and the rapidity with 
which the speronare rushed to the beach was almost 
frightful. She darted like an arrow from wave to wave, 
and appeared as if mocking their attempts as they curled 
their summits almost over her narrow stern. They were 
within a mile of the beach, when Jack, who had finished 
his supper, and was looking at the foam boiling on the 
coast, exclaimed: 

“That’s very fine — very beautiful, upon my soul!” 

“He cares for nothing,” thought Gascoigne; “he ap- 
pears to have no idea of danger.” 

“Now, my dear fellow,” said Gascoigne, “in a few 
minutes we shall be on the rocks. I must continue at 
the helm, for the higher she is forced up, the better 
chance for us; but we may not meet again, so if we do 
not, good-by, and God bless you.” 

“Gascoigne,” said Jack, “you. are hurt and I am not; 
your shoulder is stiff, and you can hardly move your left 
arm. Now I can steer for the rocks as well as you. Do 
you go to the bow, and there you will have a better 
chance. By the bye,” continued he, picking up his 
pistols, and sticking them into his waist, “I won’t leave 
them ; they’ve served us too good a turn already. Gas- 
coigne, give me the helm.” 

“No, no, Easy.” 

“I say yes,” replied Jack, in a loud, authoritative tone, 
“and what’s more, I will be obeyed, Gascoigne. I have 
nerve, if I haven’t knowledge, and at all events I can 
steer for the beach. I tell you give me the helm. Well, 
then, if you won’t, I must take it.” 

Easy wrested the tiller from Gascoigne’s hand, and 
gave him a shove forward, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


159 


“Now do you look out ahead, and tell me how to steei*” 

Whatever may have been Gascoigne’s feelings at this ■ 
behavior of our hero’s, it immediately occurred to him 
that he could not do better than to run the speronare to 
the safest point, and that therefore he was probably more 
advantageously employed than if he were at the helm. 
He went forward and looked at the rocks, covered at one 
moment with the tumultuous waters, and then pouring 
down cascades from their sides as the waves recoiled. He 
perceived a chasm right ahead, and he thought if the 
boat was steered for that, she must be thrown up so as to 
enable them to get clear of her, for at every other part 
escape appeared impossible. 

“Starboard a little! that’ll do. Steady! Port it is — 
port! Steer small, for your life, Easy! Steady now! 
mind the yard don’t hit your head — hold on!” 

The speronare was at this moment thrown into a large 
cleft in a rock, the sides of which were nearly perpendicu- 
lar; nothing else could have saved them, as had they 
struck the rock outside, the boat would have been dashed 
to pieces, and its fragments have disappeared in the under- 
tow. As it was, the cleft was not four feet more than the 
width of the boat, and as the waves hurled her up into it, 
the yard of the speronare was thrown fore and aft with 
great violence ; and had not Jack been warned, he would 
have been struck overboard without a chance of being 
saved; but he crouched down, and it passed over him. 
As the water receded, the boat struck, and was nearly 
dry between the rocks; but another wave followed, dash- 
ing the boat further up, but, at the same time, filling it 
with water. The bow of the boat was now several feet 
higher than the stern where Jack held on, and the weight 
of the water in her, with the force of the returning waves, 
separated her right across abaft the mast. Jack perceived 
that the after part of the boat was going out again with 
the wave; he caught hold of the yard, which had swung 
fore and aft, and as he clung to it, the part of the boat 
on which he had stood disappeared from under him, and 
was swept away by the returning current. 

Jack required the utmost of his strength to maintain 
his position, until another wave floated him and dashed 
him higher up; but he knew his life depended on holding 
on to the yard, which he did, although under water, and 


160 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


advanced several feet. When the wave receded, he found 
footing on the rock ; and, still clinging, he walked till he 
had gained the fore part of the boat, which was wedged 
firmly into a narrow part of the cleft. The next wave was 
not very large, and he had gained so much that it did not 
throw him off his legs. He reached the rock, and as he 
climbed up the side of the chasm to gain the ledge above, 
he perceived Gascoigne standing above him, and holding 
out his hand to his assistance. 

“Weil,” says Jack, shaking himself to get rid of the 
water, “here we are, ashore at last — I had no idea of any- 
thing like this. The rush hack of the water was so strong 
that it has almost torn my arms out of their sockets. 
How very lucky 1 sent you forward with your disabled 
shoulder. By the bye, now that it’s all over, and you 
must see that I was right, I beg to apologize for my rude- 
ness.” 

“There needs no apology for saving my life, Easy,” re- 
plied Gascoigne, trembling with the cold; “and no one 
but you would ever have thought of making one at such 
a moment.” 

“I wonder whether the ammunition’s dry,” said Jack; 
“I put it all in my hat.” 

Jack took off his hat, and found the cartridges had not 
suffered. 

“Now, then, Gascoigne, what shall we do?” 

“I hardly know,” replied Gascoigne. 

“Suppose, then, we sit down and argue the point.” 

“No, I thank you, there will be too much cold water 
thrown upon our arguments — I’m half-dead; let us walk 
on.” 

“With all my heart,” said Jack; “it’s devilish steep, 
but I can argue up hill or down hill, wet or dry — I’m 
used to it — for, as I told you before, Ned, my father is a 
philosopher, and so am I.” 

“By the Lord! you are replied Gascoigne as he 
walked on. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


161 


CHAPTER XIX. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FOLLOWS HIS DESTINY AND FORMS 
A TABLEAU. 

Our hero and his comrade climbed the precipice, and* 
after some minutes’ severe toil, arrived at the summit, 
when they sat down to recover themselves. The sky was 
clear, although the gale blew strong. They had an ex- 
tensive view of the coast, lashed by the angry waves. 

“It’s my opinion, Ned,” said Jack as he surveyed the 
expanse of troubled water, “that we’re just as well out of 
that.” 

“I agree with you, Jack; but it’s also my opinion that 
we should be just as well out of this, for the wind blows 
through one. Suppose we go a little further inland, 
where we may find some shelter till the morning.” 

“It’s rather dark to find anything,” rejoined our hero; 
“but, however, a westerly gale on the top of a mountain 
with wet clothes in the middle of the night, with nothing 
to eat or drink, is not the most comfortable position in 
the world, and we may change for the better.” 

They proceeded over a flat of a hundred yards and then 
descended — the change in the atmosphere was immediate. 
As they continued their march inland, they came to a 
high-road, which appeared to run along the shore, and 
thev turned into it ; for, as Jack said very truly, a road must 
lead to something. After a quarter of an hour’s walk, 
they again heard the rolling of the surf, and perceived 
the white walls of houses. 

“Here we are at last,”* said Jack. “I wonder if any one 
will turn out to take us in, or shall we stow away for the 
night in one of those vessels hauled up on the beach?” 

“Recollect this time, Easy,” said Gascoigne, “not to 
show your money; that is, show only a dollar, and say 
vou have no more, or promise to pay when we arrive at 
Palermo; and if they will neither trust us nor give to us, 
ve must make it out as we can.” 

“How the cursed dogs bark! I think we shall do very 
well this time, Gascoigne; we do not look as if we were 
worth robbing, at all events, and we have the pistols to 
defend ourselves with if we are attacked. Depend upon 


162 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


it, 1 will show no more gold. And now let us make our 
arrangements. Take you one pistol, and take half the 
gold — l have it all in my right-hand pocket — my dollars 
and pistarenes in my left. You shall take half of them, 
too. We have silver enough to go on with till we are in 
a safe place.” 

Jack then divided the money in the dark, and also gave 
Gascoigne a pistol. 

“Now, then, shall we knock for admittance? Let’s 
first walk through the village, and see if there’s anything 
like an inn. Those yelping curs will soon be at our heels; 
they come nearer and nearer every time. There’s a cart, 
and it’s full of straw — suppose we go to bed till to-morrow 
morning — we shall be warm, at all events.” 

“Yes,” replied Gascoigne, “and sleep much better than 
in any of the cottages. I have been in Sicily before, and 
you have no idea how the fleas bite.” 

Our two midshipmen climbed up into the cart, nestled 
themselves into the straw, or rather Indian-corn leaves, 
and were soon fast asleep. As they had not slept for two 
nights, it is not to be wondered at that they slept soundly 
— so soundly, indeed, that about two hours after they had 
got into their comfortable bed, the peasant who had 
brought to the village some casks of wine to be shipped 
and taken down the coast in a felucca yoked his bullocks, 
and not being aware of -his freight, drove off without in 
any way disturbing their repose, although the roads in 
Sicily are not yet macadamized. 

The jolting of the roads rather increased than disturbed 
the sleep of our adventurers; and, although there were 
some rude shocks, it only had the effect of making them 
fancy in their dreams that they were again in the boat, 
and that she was still dashing against the rocks. In about 
two hours, the cart arrived at its destination — the peasant 
unyoked his bullocks and led them away. The same 
cause will often produce contrary effects : the stopping of 
the motion of the cart disturbed the rest of our two mid- 
shipmen; they turned round in the straw, yawned, spread 
out their arms, and awoke. Gascoigne, who felt consider- 
able pain in his shoulder, was the first to recall his scat- 
tered senses. 

“Easy,” cried he, as he sat up and shook off the corn 

leaves. 


MM. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


163 


‘“'Port it is,” said Jack, half -dreaming. 

“Come, Easy, yon are not on board now. Rouse and 
bitt.” 

Jack then sat up and looked at Gascoigne. The forage 
in the cart was so high around them that they could not 
see above it; they rubbed their eyes, yawned, and looked 
At each other. 

“Have you any faith in dreams?” said Jack to Gas- 
coigne; “because I had a very queer one last night.” 

“AVell, so had I,” replied Gascoigne. “I dreamed that 
the cart rolled by itself into the sea, and went away with 
us right in the wind’s eye back to Malta; and considering 
that it never was built for such service, she behaved un- 
commonly well. Now, what was your dream?” 

“Mine was, that we woke up and found ourselves in the 
very town from which the speronare had sailed, and that 
they had found the fore part of the speronare among the 
rocks, had recognized her, and picked up one of our 
pistols. That they had laid hold of us, and had insisted 
that we had been thrown on shore in the boat, and asked 
us what had become of the crew — they were just seizing 
us, when I awoke.” 

“Your dream is more likely to come true than mine, 
Easy; but still I think we need not fear that. At the 
same time, we had better not remain here any longer; 
and it occurs to me that if we tore our clothes more, it 
would be advisable — we shall, in the first place, look more 
wretched ; and, in the next place, can replace them with 
the dress of the country, and so travel without exciting 
suspicion. You know that I can speak Italian pretty 
well.” 

“I have no objection to tear my clothes, if you wish,” 
replied Jack; “at the same time give me your pistol; I 
will draw the charges and load them again. They must 
be wet.” 

Having reloaded the pistols and rent their garments, 
the two midshipmen stood up in the cart and looked 
about them. 

“Halloo! why, how’s this, Gascoigne? Last night we 
were close to the beach, and among houses, and now — • 
where the devil are we? You dreamed nearer the mark 
than I did, for the cart has certainly taken a cruise.” 

“We must have slept like midshipmen, then,” replied 
Gascoigne; “surely it cannot have gone far.” 


164 


MR MIDSHIPMAN RASY. 


“Here we are, surrounded by hills on every side, for at 
least a couple of miles. Surely some good genius has 
transported us into the interior, that we might escape 
from the relatives of the crew, whom I dreamed about,” 
said Jack, looking at Gascoigne. 

As it afterward was known to them, the speronare had 
sailed from the very sea-port in which they had arrived 
that night, and where they had got into the cart. The 
wreck of the speronare had been found and had been 
recognized, and it was considered by the inhabitants that 
the padrone and his crew had perished in the gale. Had 
they found our two midshipmen and questioned them, it 
is not improbable that suspicion might have been excited, 
and the results have been such as our hero had conjured 
up in his dream. But, as we said before, there is a pecul- 
iar providence for midshipmen. 

On a minuter survey, they found that they were in an 
open space, which apparently, had been used for thresh- 
ing and winnowing maize, and that the cart was standing 
under a clump of trees in the shade. 

“There ought to be a house hereabout,” said Gas- 
coigne; “I should think that behind the trees we shall 
find one. Come, Jack, you are as hungry as I am, Fll 
answer for it; we must look out for a breakfast some- 
where.” 

“If they won’t give us something to eat, or sell it,” 
replied Jack, who was ravenous, clutching his pistol, “I 
shall take it — I consider it no robbery. The fruits of the 
earth were made for us all, and it never was intended that 
one man should have a superfluity and another starve. 
The laws of equality ” 

“May appear very good arguments to a starving man, I 
grant, but still, won’t prevent his fellow-creatures from 
hanging him,” replied Gascoigne. “None of your con- 
founded nonsense, Jack; no man starves with money in 
his pocket, and as long as you have that, leave those that 
have none to talk about equality and the rights of man.” 

“I should like to argue that point with you, Gascoigne.” 

“Tell me, do you prefer sitting down here to argue, or 
to look out for some breakfast, Jack?” 

“Oh, the argument may be put off, but hunger cannot.” 

“That’s very good philosophy, Jack, so let’s go on.” 

They went through the copse of wood, which was very 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN’ EAST. 


165 


thick, and soon discovered the wall of a large house on 
the other side. 

“All right/’ said Jacks “but still let us reconnoiter. 
It’s not a farm-house, it must belong to a person of some 
consequence — all the better, they will see that we are gen- 
tlemen, notwithstanding our tattered dress. I suppose 
we are to stick to the story of the sea-mews at Gozo.” 

\ “Yes,” replied Gascoigne; “I can think of nothing 
' better. But the English are well received in this island; 
we have troops at Palermo.” 

“Have we? I wish I was sitting down at the mess- 
table — but what’s that? a woman screaming? Yes, by 
heavens! come along, Ned.” 

And away dashed Jack toward the house, followed by 
Gascoigne. As they advanced the screams redoubled; 
they entered the porch, burst into the room from whence 
they proceeded, and found an elderly gentleman defend- 
ing himself against two young men, who were held back 
by an elderly and a young lady. Our hero and his com- 
rade had both drawn their pistols, and just as they burst 
open the door, the old gentleman who defended himself 
against such odds had fallen down. The two others burst 
from the women, and were about to pierce him with their 
swords, when Jack seized one by the collar of his coat 
and held him fast, pointingthe muzzle of the pistol to his 
ear: Gascoigne did the same to the other. It was a very 
dramatic tableau. The two women flew to the elderly 
gentleman and raised him up; the two assailants being 
held just as dogs hold pigs by the ear, trembling with 
fright, with the points of their rapiers dropped, looked at 
the midshipmen and the muzzles of their pistols with 
equal dismay; at the same time, the astonishment of the 
elderly gentleman and the women, at such an unexpected 
deliverance, was equally great. There was a silence for 
a few seconds. 

“Ned,” at last said Jack, “tell these chaps to drop 
their swords, or we fire.” 

Gascoigne gave the order in Italian, and it was com- 
plied with. The midshipmen then possessed themselves of 
the rapiers and gave the young men their liberty. 

The elderly gentleman at last broke the silence. 

“It would appear, signors, that there was an especial 
interference of Providence, to prevent you from commit- 


166 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


ting a foul and unjust murder. Who these are that have 
so opportunely come to my rescue, I know not, but thank- 
ing them as I do now, I think that you will yourselves, 
when you are calm, also thank them for having prevent- 
ed you from committing an act which would have loaded 
you with remorse and imbittered your future existence. 
Gentlemen, you are free to depart; you, Don Silvio, have 
indeed disappointed me, your gratitude should have 
rendered you incapable of such conduct; as for you, Don 
Scipio, you have been misled; but you both have, in one 
point, disgraced yourselves. Ten days back my sons were 
both here — why did you not come then? if you sought 
revenge on me, you could not have inflicted it deeper 
than through my children, and, at least, you would not 
have acted the part of assassins*in attacking an old man. 
Take your swords, gentlemen, and use them better hence- 
forth. Against future attacks I shall be well prepared.” 

Gascoigne, who perfectly understood what was said, 
presented the sword to the young gentleman from whom 
he had taken it — our hero did the same. The two young 
men returned them to their sheaths and quitted the room 
without saying a word. 

“Whoever you are, I owe to you and thank you for my 
life,” said the elderly gentleman, scanning the outward 
appearance of our two midshipmen. 

“We are,” replied Gascoigne, “officers in the English 
navy, and gentlemen; we were wrecked in our boat last 
night, and have wkndered here in the dark, seeking for 
assistance and food, and some conveyance to Palermo, 
where we shall find friends and the means of appearing 
like gentlemen.” 

“Was your ship wrecked, gentlemen?” inquired the 
Sicilian; “and many lives lost?” 

“No, our ship is at Malta; we were in a boat on a party 
of pleasure, were caught by a gale and driven on the 
coast. To satisfy you of the truth, observe that our 
pistols have the king’s mark, and that we are not paupers, 
we show you gold.” 

Gascoigne pulled out his doubloons— and Jack did the 
same, coolly observing: 

“I thought we were only to show silver, Ned!” 

“It needed not that,” replied the gentleman; “your 
conduct in this affair, your manners and address, fully 


MH. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


w 


convince me that you are what you represent — hut were 
you common peasants, I am equally indebted to you for 
my life, and you may command me. Tell me in what 
way I can be of service.” 

“In giving us something to eat, for we have had noth- 
ing for many, many hours. After that, we may, perhaps, 
trespass a little more upon your kind offices.” 

“You must, of course, be surprised at what has passed, 
and curious to know the occasion,” said the gentleman; 
“you have a right to be informed of it, and shall be, as 
soon as you are more comfortable; in the mean time, 
allow me to introduce myself as Don Rebiera de Silva.” 

“I wish,” said Jack, who, from his knowledge of 
Spanish, could understand the whole of the last part of 
the don’s speech, “that he would introduce us to his 
breakfast.” 

“So do I,” said Gascoigne; “but we must wait a little 
— he ordered the ladies to prepare something instantly.” 

“Your friend does not speak Italian,” said Don Rebiera. 

“No, Don Rebiera, he speaks French and Spanish.” 

“If he speaks Spanish my daughter can converse with 
him; she has but shortly arrived from Spain. We are 
closely united with a noble house in that country.” 

Don Rebiera then led the way to another room, and in 
a short time there was a repast brought in, to which our 
midshipmen did great justice. 

“I will now,” said the don, “relate to you, sir, for the 
information of yourself and friend, the causes which pro- 
duced this scene of violence, which you so opportunely 
defeated. But first, as it must be very tedious to your 
friend, I will send for Donna Clara and my daughter 
Agnes to talk to him; my wife understands a little 
Spanish, and my daughter, as I said before, has but just left 
the country, where, from circumstances, she remained 
some years.” 

As soon as Donna Clara and Donna Agnes made their 
appearance and were introduced, Jack, who had not before 
paid attention to them, said to himself, “I have seen a 
face like that girl’s before. ” If so, he had never seen many 
like it, for it was the quintessence of brunette beauty, 
and her figure was equally perfect; although, not having 
yet completed her fifteenth year, it required still a little 
more development. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 

Donna Clara was extremely gracious, and as, perhaps, 
she was aware that her voice would drown that of her 
husband, she proposed to our hero to walk in the garden, 
and in a few minutes they took their seats in a pavilion at 
the end of it. The old lady did not talk much Spanish, 
but when at a loss for a word she put in an Italian one, and 
Jack understood her perfectly well. She told him her 
sister had married a Spanish nobleman many years since, 
and that before the war broke out between the Spanish 
and the English, they had gone over with all their chil- 
dren to see her; that when they wished to return, her 
daughter Agnes, then a child, was suffering under a 
lingering complaint, and it was thought advisable, as she 
was very weak, to leave her under the charge of her aunt, 
who had a little girl of nearly the same age; that they 
were educated together at a convent near Tarragona, and 
that she only returned two months ago ; that she had a 
very narrow escape, as the ship in which her uncle, and 
aunt, and cousins, as well as herself, were on board, re- 
turning from Genoa, where her brother-in-law had been 
obliged to go to secure a succession to some property be- 
queathed to him, had been captured in the night by the 
English; but the officer, who was very polite, had allowed 
them to go away next day, and very handsomely per- 
mitted them to take all their effects. 

“Oh, oh,” thought Jack; “I thought I had seen her 
face before; this then was one of the girls in the corner 
of the cabin — now, I’ll have some fun.” 

During the conversation with the mother, Donna Agnes 
had remained some paces behind, picking now and then 
a flower, and not attending to what passed. 

When our hero and her mother sat down in the pavilion 
she joined them, when Jack addressed her with his usual 
politeness. 

“I am almost ashamed to be sitting by you, Donna 
Agnes, in this ragged dress — but the rocks of your coast 
have no respect for persons.” 

“We are under great obligations, signor, and do not 
regard such trifles.” 

“You are all kindness, signora,” replied Jack; “I little 
thought this morning of my good fortune — I can tell the 
fortunes of others, but not my own.” 

“You can tell fortunes!” replied the old lady. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASt. 169 


“Yes, madam, I am famous for it — shall I tell your 
daughter hers?” 

Donna Agnes looked at our hero, and smiled. 

“I perceive that the young lady does not believe me; I 
must prove my art by telling her of what has already hap- 
pened to her. The signora will then give me credit.” 

“Certainly, if you do that,” replied Agnes. 

“Oblige me, by showing me the palm of your hand.” 

1 Agnes extended her little hand, and Jack felt so very 
polite that he was nearly kissing it. However, he re- 
strained himself, and examining the lines — 

“That you were educated in Spain — that you arrived 
here but two months ago — that you were captured and 
released by the English, your mother has already told me; 
but to prove to you that I knew all that, I must now be 
more particular. You were in a ship mounting fourteen 
guns — was it not so?” 

Donna Agnes nodded her head. 

“I never told the signor that,” cried Donna Clara. 

“She was taken by surprise in the night, and there was 
no fighting. The next morning, the English burst open 
the cabin door; your uncle and your cousin fired their 
pistols.” 

“Holy Virgin!” cried Agnes with surprise. 

“The English officer was a young man not very good- 
looking.” 

“There you are wrong, signor; he was very handsome.” 

“There is no accounting for taste, signora; you were 
frightened out of your wits, and with your cousin you 
crouched down in the corner of the cabin. Let me ex- 
amine that little line closer — you had, yes, it’s no mis- 
take, you had very little clothes on.” 

Agnes tore away her hand and covered her face. 

“E vero, E vero, Holy Jesus! how could you know 
that?” 

Of a sudden Agnes looked at our hero, and after a 
minute appeared to recognize him. 

“Oh, mother, ’tishe; I recollect now, Tishe!” 

“Who, my child?” replied Donna Clara, who had been 
struck dumb with Jack’s astonishing power of fortune- 
telling. 

“The officer who captured us and was so kind.” 

Jack burst out into a laughter not to be controlled for 


170 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


some minutes, and then acknowledged that she had dis« 
covered him. 

“At all events, Donna Agnes, ” said he at last, “ac- 
knowledge that, ragged as I am, I have seen you in a much 
greater dishabille. ’ 5 

Agnes sprang up and took to her heels, that she might 
hide her confusion, and at the same time go to her father 
and tell him who he had as his guest. 

Although Don Rebiera had not yet finished his narra- 
tive, this announcement of Agnes, who ran in breathless 
to communicate it, immediately brought all parties to- 
gether, and Jack received their thanks. 

“I little thought/’ said the don, “that I should have 
been so doubly indebted to you, sir. Command my serv- 
ices as you please, both of you* My sons are at Palermo, 
and I trust you will allow them the pleasure of your friend- 
ship when you are tired of remaining with us.” 

Jack made his politest bow, and then, with a shrug of 
his shoulders, looked down upon his habiliments, which, 
to please G-ascoigne, he had torn into ribbons, as much as 
to say, “We are not provided for a lengthened stay.” 

“My brothers’ clothes will fit them, I think,” said 
Agnes to her father; “they have left plenty in their 
wardrobes.” 

“If the signors will condescend to wear them, till they 
can replace their own.” 

Midshipmen are very condescending — they followed 
Don Rebiera, and condescended to put on clean shirts 
belonging to Don Philip and Don Martin ; also to put on 
their trousers — to select their best waistcoats and coats 
— in short, they condescended to have a regular fit out — • 
and it so happened that the fit out was far from a regular 
-fit. 

Having condescended, they then descended, and the 
intimacy between all parties became so great that it ap- 
peared as if they not only wore the young men’s clothes, 
but also stood in their shoes. Having thus made them- 
selves presentable, Jack presented his hand to both ladies, 
and led them into the garden, that Don Rebiera might 
finish his long story to Gascoigne without further inter- 
ruption, and resuming their seats in the pavilion, he en- 
tertained the ladies with a history of his cruise in the 
ship after her capture. Agnes soon recovered from her 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


171 


reserve, and Jack had the forbearance not to allude again 
to the scene in the cabin, which was the only thing she 
dreaded. After dinner, when the family, according to 
custom, had retired for the siesta, Gascoigne and Jack, 
who had slept enough in the cart to last for a week, went 
out together in the garden. 

“Well, Ned,” said Jack, “do you wish yourself on 
hoard the Harpy again?” 

“No,” replied Gascoigne; “we have fallen on our feet 
at last, hut still not without first being knocked about 
like peas in a rattle. What a lovely little creature that 
Agnes is ! How strange that you should fall in with her 
again! How odd that we should come here!” 

“My good fellow, we did not come here. Destiny 
brought us in a cart. She may take us to Tyburn in the 
same way.” 

“Yes, if you sport your philosophy as you did when we 
awoke this morning.” 

“Nevertheless, IT1 be hanged if I’m not right. Sup- 
pose we argue the point?” 

“Right or wrong, you will be hanged, Jack; so instead 
of arguing the point suppose I tell you what the don made 
such a long story about.” 

“With all my heart; let us go to the pavilion.” 

Our hero and his friend took their seats, and Gascoigne 
then communicated the history of Don Rebiera, to which 
we shall dedicate the ensuing chapter. 


CHAPTER XX. 


A LONG STORY, WHICH THE READER MUST LISTEN TO, 
AS WELL AS OUR HERO. 


“I have already made you acquainted with my name, 
and I have only to add that it is one of the most noble in 
Sicily, and that there are few families who possess such 
large estates. My father was a man who had no pleasure 
in the pursuits of most of the young men of his age; he 
was of a weakly constitution, and was with difficulty 
reared to manhood. When his studies were completed he 


172 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


retired to his country-seat, belonging to onr family, which 
is about twenty miles from Paiermo, and shutting himself 
up, devoted himself wholly to literary pursuits. 

“As he was an only son, his parents were naturally very 
anxious that he should marry; the more so as his health 
did not promise him a very extended existence. , Had he 
consulted his own inclinations he would have declined, 
but he felt that it was his duty to comply with their 
wishes; but he did not trouble himself with the choice, 
leaving it wholly to them. They selected a young lady of 
high family, and certainly of most exquisite beauty. I 
only wish I could say more in her favor, for she was my 
mother; but it is impossible to narrate the history with- 
out exposing her conduct. The marriage took place, 
and my father, having woke up as it were at the celebra- 
tion, again returned to his closet, to occupy himself in 
abstruse studies the results of which have been published, 
and have fully established his reputation as a man of 
superior talent and deep research. But however much 
the public may appreciate the works of a man of genius, 
whether they be written to instruct or to amuse, certain 
it is that a literary man requires, in his wife, either a 
mind congenial to his own or that pride in her husband’s 
talents which induces her to sacrifice much of her own 
domestic enjoyment to the satisfaction of having his name 
extolled abroad. I mention this point as some extenua- 
tion of my mother’s conduct. She was neglected, most 
certainly, but not neglected for frivolous amusements, or 
because another form had more captivated his fancy; but 
in his desire to instruct others, and, I may add, his am- 
bition for renown, he applied himself to his literary pur- 
suits, |iteame abstracted, answered without hearing, and 
left hi^wife to amuse herself in any way she might please. 
A literary husband is, without exception, although always 
at home, the least domestic husband in the world, and 
must try the best of tempers, not by unkindness, for my 
father was kind and indulgent to excess, but by that state 
of perfect abstraction and indifference which he showed 
to everything except the favorite pursuit which absorbed 
him. My mother had but to speak, and every wish was 
granted — a refusal was unknown. You may say, What 
could she want more? I reply, that anything to a woman 
is preferable to indifference. The immediate consent 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


173 


to every wish took away, in her opinion, all merit in the 
grant; the value of everything is only relative, and in 
proportion to the difficulty of obtaining it. The imme- 
diate assent to every opinion was tantamount to insult; 
it implied that he did not choose to argue with her. 

“It is true that women like to have their own way; but 
they like, at the same time, to have difficulties to sur- 
mount and to conquer. Otherwise, half the gratification 
is lost. Although tempests are to be deplored, still a 
certain degree of oscillation and motion are requisite to 
keep fresh and clear the lake of matrimony, the waters of 
which otherwise soon stagnate and become foul, and with- 
out some contrary currents of opinion between a married 
people, such a stagnation must take place. 

“A woman permitted always and invariably to have her 
own way without control, is much in the same situation 
as the child who insists on a whole instead of a half holi- 
day, and before the evening closes is tired of himself and 
everything about him. In short, a little contradiction, 
like salt at dinner, seasons and appetizes the repast; but 
too much, like the condiment in question, spoils the 
whole, and it becomes unpalatable in proportion to its 
excess. 

“My mother was a vain woman in every sense of the 
word — vain of her birth and of her beauty, and accus- 
tomed to receive that homage to which she considered 
herself entitled. She had been spoiled in her infancy, 
and as she grew up had learned nothing, because she was 
permitted to do as she pleased; she was therefore frivo- 
lous, and could not appreciate what she could not com- 
prehend. There never was a more ill-assorted union. 

“I have always thought that such must be the ca^»’ 
replied Gascoigne, “in Catholic countries, where a young 
person is taken out of a convent and mated according to 
what her family or her wealth may consider as the most 
eligible connection.” 

“On that subject there are many opinions, my friend,” 
replied Don Rebiera. “It is true that when a marriage 
of convenience is arranged by the parents, the dispositions 
of the parties are made a secondary point; but then, 
again, it must be remembered that when a choice is left 
to the parties themselves, it is at an age at which there 
is little worldly consideration ; and led away, in the first 


174 . 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


place, by their passions, they form connections with those 
inferior in their station, which are attended with eventual 
unhappiness; or in the other, allowing that they do 
choose in their own rank of life, they make quite as bad 
or often a worse choice than if their partners were se- 
lected for them.” 

“I cannot understand that,” replied Gascoigne. 

“The reason is because there are no means, or if means, 
no wish, to study each other’s disposition. A young man 
is attracted by person, and he admires; the young woman 
is flattered by the admiration, and is agreeable; if she has 
any faults, she is not likely to display them — not conceal- 
ing them from hypocrisy, but because they are not called 
out. The young man falls in love, so does the young 
woman; and when once in love, they can no longer see 
faults; they marry, imagining that they have found per- 
fection. In the blindness of love, each raises the other 
to a standard of perfection which human nature can never 
attain, and each, becomes equally annoyed on finding, by 
degrees, that they were in error. The reaction takes 
place, and they then underrate, as much as before they 
had overrated, each other. Now, if two young people 
marry without this violence of passion, they do not ex- 
pect to find each other perfect, and perhaps have a better 
chance of happiness.” 

“I don’t agree with you,” thought Gascoigne; “but as 
you appear to be as fond of argument as my friend Jack, 
I shall make no reply, lest there be no end to the story.” 

Don Rebiera proceeded : 

“My mother, finding that my father preferred his closet 
and his books to gayety and dissipation, soon left him to 
himself, and amused herself after her own fashion, but 
until I was born, which was ten months after their 
marriage. My father was confiding, and pleased that my 
mother should be amused, he indulged her in everything* 
Time flew on, and I had arrived at my fifteenth year, and 
came home from my studies, it being intended that I 
should enter the army, which you are aware is generally 
the only profession embraced in this country by the heirs 
of noble families. Of course, I knew little of what had 
passed at home; but still I had occasionally heard my 
mother spoken lightly of, when I was not supposed to be 
present, and I always heard my father’s name mentioned 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


175 


with compassion, as if an ill-used man, but I knew noth- 
ing more; still this was quite sufficient for a young man, 
whose blood boiled at the idea of anything like a stigma 
being cast upon his family. I arrived at my father’s; I 
found him at his books: I paid my respects to my mother; 
I found her with her confessor. I disliked the man at 
first sight; he was handsome, certainly: his forehead was 
high and white, his eyes large and fiery, and his figure 
commanding; but there was a dangerous, proud look 
about him which disgusted me — nothing like humility or 
devotion. I might have admired him as an officer com- 
manding a regiment of cavalry; but as a churchman he 
appeare d to be most misplaced. She named me with 
kindness, but he appeared to treat me with disdain ; he 
spoke authoritatively to my mother, who appeared to 
yield implicitly, and I discovered that he was lord of the 
whole household. My mother, too, it was said, had given 
up gayeties and become devout. I soon perceived more 
than a common intelligence between them, and before I 
had been two months at home, I had certain proofs of my 
father’s dishonor; and, what was still more unfortunate 
for me, they were aware that such was the case. My first 
impulse was to acquaint my father; but, on consideration, 
I thought it better to say nothing, provided I could per- 
suade my mother to dismiss Father Ignatio. I took an 
opportunity when she was alone to express my indigna- 
tion at her conduct, and to demand his immediate dis- 
missal, as a condition of my not divulging her crime. 
She appeared frightened, and gave her consent; but I 
soon found that her confessor had more power with her 
than I had, and he remained. I now resolved to acquaint 
my father, and I roused him from his studies that he 
might listen to his shame. I imagined that he would 
have acted calmly and discreetly; but, on the contrary, 
his violence was without bounds, and I had the greatest 
difficulty from preventing his rushing with his sword to 
sacrifice them both. At last he contented himself by 
turning Father Ignatio out of the house in the most 
ignominious manner, and desiring my mother to prepare 
for seclusion in a convent for the remainder of her days. 
But he fell their victim. Three days afterward, as my 
mother was, by his directions, about to be removed, he 
was seized with convulsions and died. X need hardly say 


176 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


that he was carried off by poison; this, however, could 
not be established till long afterward. Before he died he 
seemed to be almost supernaturally prepared for an event 
which never came into my thoughts. He sent for another 
confessor, who drew up his confession in writing at his 
own request, and afterward inserted in his will. My 
mother remained in the house, and Father Ignatio had 
the insolence to return. I ordered him away, and he re- 
sisted. He was turned out by the servants. I had an 
interview with my mother, who defied me, and told me 
that I should soon have a brother to share in the succes- 
sion. I felt that if so, it would be the illegitimate progeny 
of her adultery and told her my opinion. She expressed 
her rage in the bitterest curses, and I left her. Shortly 
afterward she quitted the house, and retired to another of 
our country-seats, where she lived with Father Ignatio as 
before. About four months afterward, formal notice was 
sent to me of the birth of a brother; but, as when my 
father’s will was opened, he there had inserted his con- 
fession, or the substance of it, in which he stated that, 
aware of my mother’s guilt, and supposing that conse- 
quences might ensue, he solemnly declared before God 
that he had for years lived apart, I cared little for this 
communication; I contented myself with replying that 
as the child belonged to the Church, it had better be ded- 
icated to its service. 

“I had, however, soon reason to acknowledge the venge- 
ance of my mother and her paramour. One night I 
was attacked by bravos, and had I not fortunately received 
assistance, I should have forfeited my life; as it was, I 
received a severe wound. 

“Against attempts of that kind I took every precaution 
in future, but still every attempt was made to ruin my 
character, as well as to take my life. A young sister dis- 
appeared from a convent in my neighborhood, and on the 
ground near the window from which she descended was 
found a hat, recognized to be mine. I was proceeded 
against, and notwithstanding the strongest interest, it 
was with difficulty that the affair was arranged, although 
1 had incontestably proved an alibi. 

“A young man of rank was found murdered with a 
stiletto, known to be mine, buried in his bosom, and it 
W$s with difficulty that I could establish my innocence. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


177 


“Part of a banditti had been seized, and on being asked 
the name of their chief, when they received absolution, 
they confessed that I was the chief of the band. 

“Everything that could be attempted was put into 
pratice; and if I did not lose my life, at all events I was 
avoided by almost everybody as a dangerous and doubtful 
character. 

“At last a nobleman of rank, the father of Don Scipio, 
whom you disarmed, was assassinated; the bravos were 
taken, and they acknowledged that I was the person who 
hired them. I defended myself, but the king imposed 
upon me a heavy fine and banishment. I had just re- 
ceived the order, and was crying out against the injustice, 
and lamenting my hard fate, as I sat down to dinner. 
Latterly, aware of what my enemies would attempt, I had 
been accustomed to live much alone. My faithful valet 
Pedro was my only attendant. I was eating my dinner 
with little appetite, and had asked for some wine. Pedro 
went to the buffet behind him, to give me what I re- 
quired. Accidentally I lifted up my head, and there 
being a large pier-glass opposite to me, I saw the figure of 
my valet, and that he was pouring a powder in the flagon 
of wine which he was about to present to me. I recol- 
lected the hat being found at the nunnery, and also the 
stiletto in the body of the young man. 

“Like lightning it occurred to me that I had been fos- 
tering the viper who had assisted to destroy me. He 
brought me the flagon. I rose, locked the door, and 
drawing my sword, I addressed him : 

“ ‘Villain! I know thee; down on your knees, for your 
life is forfeited.’ 

“He turned pale, trembled, and sank upon his knees. 

“ ‘Now, then,’ continued I, ‘you have but one chance — 
either drink off this flagon of wine, or I pass my sword 
through your body.’ He hesitated, and I put the point 
to his breast, even pierced the flesh a quarter of an inch. 

“ ‘Drink,’ cried I — ‘is it so very unjust an order, to tell 
you to drink old wine? Drink,’ continued I, ‘or my 
sword does its duty.’ 

“He drank, and would then have quitted the room. ‘No, 
no,’ said I, ‘you remain here, and the wine must have its 
effect. If I have wronged you I will make amends to 
you — but I am suspicious.’ 


178 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“In about a quarter of an hour, during which time X 
paced up and down the room, with my sword drawn, my 
servant fell down, and cried in mercy to let him have a 
priest. I sent for my own confessor, and he then ac- 
knowledged that he was an agent of my mother and 
Father Ignatio, and had been the means of making it 
appear that I was the committer of all the crimes and 
murders which had been perpetrated by them with a view 
to my destruction. A strong emetic having been admin- 
istered to him, he partially revived, and was taken to 
Palermo, where he gave his evidence before he expired. 

4 ‘When this was made known, the king revoked his 
sentence, apologized to me, and I found that once more I 
was visited and courted by everybody. My mother was 
ordered to be shut up in a convent, where she died, I 
trust, in grace, and Father Ignatio fled to Italy, and I have 
been informed is since dead. 

“Having thus ridden myself of my principal enemies, I 
considered myself safe. I married the lady whom you 
have just seen, and before my eldest son was born, Don 
Silvio, for such was the name given to my asserted legiti- 
mate brother, came of age, and demanded his succession. 
Had he asked me for a proper support, as my uterine 
brother, I should not have refused; but tl&it the son of 
Friar Ignatio, who had so often attempted my life, should, 
in case of my decease, succeed to the title and estates, was 
not to be borne. A lawsuit was immediately commenced, 
which lasted four or five years, during which Don 
Silvio married, and had a son, that young man whom you 
heard me address by the same name; but after much 
litigation, it was decided that my father’s confession and 
will had proved his illegitimacy, and the suit was in my 
favor. From that time to this, there has been a constant 
enmity. Don Silvio refused all my offers of assistance, 
and followed me with a pertinacity which often endan- 
gered my life. At last he fell by the hands of his own 
agents, who mistook him for me. Don Silvio died with- 
out leaving any provision for his family; his widow I 
pensioned, and his son I have had carefully brought up, 
and have, indeed, treated most liberally, but he appears 
to have imbibed the spirit of his father, and no kindness 
has been able to imbue him with gratitude. 

“He has lately been placed by me in the army, where 


MM. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 


he found ont my two sons, and quarreled with them both 
upon slight pretense, but, in both instances, he was • 
wounded and carried off the field. 

“My two sons have been staying with me these last two 
months, and did not leave till yesterday. This morning 
Don Silivo, accompanied by Don Scipio, came to the 
house, and after accusing me of being the murderer of 
both their parents, drew their rapiers to assassinate me. 
My wife and child, hearing the noise, came down to my 
assistance. You know the rest.” 


CHAPTER XXL 

IN WHICH OUR HERO IS BROUGHT UP ALL STANDING 
UNDER A PRESS OF SAIL. 

Our limits will not permit us to relate all that passed 
during our hero’s stay of a fortnight at Don Rebiera’s. 
He and Gascoigne were treated as if they were his own 
sons, and the kindness of the female part of the family 
was equally remarkable. Agnes, naturally perhaps, 
showed a preference or partiality for Jack; to which Gas- 
coigne willingly submitted, as he felt that our hero had a 
prior and stronger claim, and during the time that they 
remained, a feeling of attachment was created between 
Agnes and the philosopher, which, if not love, was at 
least something very near akin to it; but the fact was, 
that they were both much too young to think of marriage, 
and although they walked and talked, and laughed and 
played together, they were always at home in time for 
their dinner. Still, the young lady thought she pre- 
ferred our hero, even to her brothers, and Jack thought 
that the young lady was the prettiest and kindest girl that 
he had ever met with. At the end of the fortnight, our 
two midshipmen took their leave, furnished with letters 
of recommendation to many of the first nobility in Pa- 
lermo, and mounted on two fine mules with bell-bridles 
The old donna kissed them both — the don showered dowfc 
his blessings of good wishes, and Donna Agnes’ lips trem- 
bled as she bade them adieu; and, as soon as they were 
gone, she went up to her chamber and wept. Jack also 


MR. MlbSBlPMAfr EAST, 


m 

was very grave, and his eyes moistened at the thought of 
leaving Agnes. Neither of them were aware, until the 
hour of parting, how much they had wound themselves 
together. 

The first quarter of an hour our two midshipmen fol- 
lowed their guide in silence. Jack wished to be left to 
his own thoughts, and Gascoigne perceived it. 

“Well, Easy,” said Gascoigne, at last, “if I had been 
in your place, constantly in company of and loved by that 
charming girl, I could never have torn myself away.” 

“Loved by her, Ned!” replied Jack; “what makes you 
say that?” 

“Because I am sure it was the case; she lived but in 
your presence. Why, if you were out of the room, she 
never spoke a word, but sat there as melancholy as a sick 
monkey — the moment you came in again, she beamed out 
as glorious as the sun, and, was all life and spirit.” 

“I thought people were always melancholy when they 
were in love,” replied Jack. 

“When those that they love are out of their presence.” 

“Well, then, I am out of her presence, and I feel very 
melancholy, so I suppose, by your argument, I am in love. 
Can a man be in love without knowing it?” 

“I really cannot say; Jack, I never was in love myself, 
but I’ve seen many others spooney. My time will come, I 
suppose, by and by. They say that for every man made 
there is a woman also made to fit him, if he could only 
find her. Now, it’s my opinion that you have found yours 
— I’ll lay my life she’s crying at this moment.” 

“Go you really think so, Ned? let’s go back — poor 
little Agnes — let’s go back; I feel I do love her, and I’ll 
tell her so.” 

“Pooh, nonsense! it’s too late now; you should have 
told her that before, when you walked with her in the 
garden.” 

“But I did not know it, Ned. However, as you say, it 
would be foolish to turn back, so I’ll write to her from 
Palermo.” 

Here an argument ensued upon love, which we shall 
not trouble the reader with, as it was not very profound, 
both sides knowing very little on the subject. It did, 
however, end with our hero being convinced that he was 
desperately in love, and he talked about giving up the 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 


service as soon as he arrived at Malta. It is astonishing 
what sacrifices midshipmen will make for the objects of 
their adoration. 

It was not until late in the evening that our adventurers 
arrived at Palermo. As soon as they were lodged at the 
hotel, Gascoigne sat down and wrote a letter in their joint 
names to Don Rebiera, retuning him many thanks for his 
great kindness, informing him of their safe arrival, and 
trusting that they should soon meet again; and Jack took 
up his pen, and indited a letter in Spanish to Agnes, in 
which he swore that neither tide nor time, nor water nor 
air, nor heaven nor earth, nor the first lieutenant nor his 
father, nor absence, nor death itself, should prevent him 
from coming back and marrying her, the first convenient 
opportunity, begging her to refuse a thousand offers, as 
come back he would, although there was no saying when. 
It was a perfect love-letter, that is to say, it was the es- 
sence of nonsense; but that made it perfect, for the 
greater the love the greater the folly. 

These letters were consigned to the man who was sent 
as their guide, and also had to return with the mules. 
He was liberally rewarded; and, as Jack told him to 
be very careful of his letter, the Italian naturally con- 
cluded that it was to be delivered clandestinely, and he 
delivered it accordingly, at a time when Agnes was walk- 
ing in the garden thinking of our hero. Nothing was 
more opportune than the arrival of the letter; Agnes ran 
to the pavilion, read it over twenty times, kissed it twenty 
times, and hid it in her bosom ; sat for a few minutes in 
deep and placid thought, took the letter out of its recep- 
tacle, and read it over and over again. It was very bad 
Spanish and very absurd, but she thought it delightful, 
poetical, classical, sentimental, argumentative, convinc- 
ing, incontrovertible, imaginative, and even grammatical, 
for if it was not good Spanish, there was no Spanish half 
so good. Alas! Agnes was, indeed, unsophisticated, to be 
in such ecstasies with a midshipman’s love-letter. Once 
more she hastened to her room to weep, but it was from 
excess of joy and delight. The reader may think Agnes 
silly, but he must take into consideration the climate, and 
that she was not yet fifteen. 

Our young gentlemen sent for a tailor and each ordered 

a new suit of clothes; they delivered, their letters of 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


recommendation, and went to the banker to whom they 
were addressed by Don Rebiera. 

“I shall draw for ten pounds, Jack,” said Gascoigne, 
“on the strength of the shipwreck; I shall tell the truth, 
all except that we forgot to ask for leave, which I shall 
leave out; and I’m sure the story will be worth ten 
pounds. What shall you draw for, Jack?” 

“I shall draw for two hundred pounds,” replied Jack; 
“I mean to have a good cruise while I can.” 

“But will your governor stand that, Easy?” 

“To be sure he will.” 

“Then you’re right — he is a philosopher — I wish he’d 
teach mine, for he hates the sight of a bill.” 

“Then don’t you draw, Ned — I have plenty for both. 
If every man had" his equal share and rights in the world, 
you would be able to draw as much as I; and, as you can- 
not, upon the principles of equality, you shall have half.” 

“I really shall become a convert to your philosophy, 
Jack; it does not appear to be so nonsensical as I thought 
it. At all events, it has saved my old governor ten 
pounds, which he can ill afford, as a colonel on half- 
pay.” 

On their return to the inn, they found Don Philip and 
Don Martin, to whom Don Rebiera had written, who wel- 
comed them with open arms. They were two very fine 
young men of eighteen and nineteen, who were finishing 
their education in the army. Jack asked them to dinner, 
and they and our hero soon became inseparable. They 
took him to all the theaters, the conversaziones of all the 
nobility, and, as Jack lost his money with good humor, 
and was a very handsome fellow, he was everywhere well 
received and was made much of ; many ladies made love 
to him, but Jack was only very polite, because he thought 
more and more of Agnes every day. Three weeks passed 
away like lightning, and neither Jack nor Gascoigne 
thought of going back. At last, one fine day, H.M. 
frigate Aurora anchored in the bay, and Jack and Gas- 
coigne, who were at a party at the Duke of Pentaro’s, 
met with the captain of the Aurora, who was also invited. 
The duchess introduced them to Captain Tartar, who, im- 
agining them, from their being in plain clothes, to be young 
Englishmen of fortune on their travels, was very gracious 
and condescending. Jack was so pleased with his urban- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN NAS?. 


183 


ity that he requested the pleasure of his company to din- 
ner the next day ; Captain Tartar accepted the invitation, 
and they parted, shaking hands, with many expressions of 
pleasure in having made his acquaintance. Jack’s party 
was rather large, and the dinner sumptuous. The Sicilian 
gentlemen did not drink much ' 1 1 ^ * rin Tartar 



liked his bottle, and although 


company 


quitted the table to go to a ball given that evening by the < 
Marquesa Novara, Jack was too polite not to sit it out with 
the captain; Gascoigne closed his chair to Jack’s, who, he 
was afraid,- being a little affected with wine, would “let 
the cat out of the bag.” 

The captain was amazingly entertaining. Jack told 
him how happy he should be to see him at Forest Hill, 
which property the captain discovered to contain six 
thousand acres of land, and also that Jack was an only 
son; and Captain Tartar was quite respectful when he 
found that he was in such very excellent company. The 
captain of the frigate inquired of Jack what brought him 
out here, and Jack, whose prudence was departing, told 
him that he came in his majesty’s ship Harpy. Gascoigne 
gave Jack a nudge, but it was of no use, for as the wine 
got into Jack’s brain, so did his notions of equality. 

“Oh! Wilson gave you a passage; he’s an old friend 
of mine.” 

“So he is of ours,” replied Jack; “he’s a devilish good 
sort of a fellow, Wilson.” 

“But where have you been since you came out?” in- 
quired Captain Tartar. 

“In the Harpy,” replied Jack, “to be sure; I belong 
to her.” 

“You belong to her! in what capacity may I ask?” in- 
quired Captain Tartar, in a much less respectful and con- 
fidential tone. 

“Midshipman,” replied Jack; “so is Mr. Gascoigne.” 

“Umph! you are on leave, then?” 

“No, indeed,” replied Jack; “I’ll tell you how it is, 
my dear fellow.” 

“Excuse me for one moment,” replied Captain Tartar, 
rising up ; “I must give some directions to my servants 
which I forgot.” 

Captain Tartar hailed his coxswain out of the window, 
gave orders just outside of the door, and then returned to 


184 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


the table. In the mean time, Gascoigne, who expected a 
breeze, had been cautioning Jack, in a low tone, at inter- 
vals, when Captain Tartar’s back was turned; but it was 
useless, the extra quantity of wine had got into Jack’s 
head, and he cared nothing for Gascoigne’s remonstrance. 
When the captain resumed his seat at the table, Jack 
gave him the true narrative of all that had passed, to 
which his guest paid the greatest attention. Jack wound 
up his confidence by saying that in a week or so he should 
go back to Don Rebiera and propose for Donna Agnes. 

“Ah!” exclaimed Captain Tartar, drawing his breath 
with astonishment and compressing his lips. 

“Tartar, the wine stands with you,” said Jack, “allow 
me to help you.” 

Captain Tartar threw himself back in his chair and let 
all the air out of his chest with a sort of whistle, as if he 
could hardly contain himself. 

“Have you had wine enough?” said Jack very politely; 
“if so, we will go to the marquesa’s.” 

The coxswain came to the door, touched his hat to the 
captain, and looked significantly. 

“And so, sir,” cried Captain Tartar, in a voice of thun- 
der, rising from his chair, “you’re a d d runaway mid- 

shipman, who, if you belonged to my ship, instead of 
marrying Donna Agnes, I would marry you to the gun- 
ner’s daughter, by G — d! Two midshipmen sporting 
plain clothes in the best society in Palermo, and having 
the impudence to ask a post-captain to dine with them ! 
To ask me, and address me as Tartar , smdLmy dear fellow ! 
You infernal young scamps!” continued Captain Tartar, 
‘ now boiling with rage, and striking his fist on the table 
so as to set all the glasses waltzing, 

“Allow me to observe, sir,” said Jack, who was com- 
pletely sobered by the address, “that we do not belong to 
your ship, and that we are in plain clothes.” 

“In plain clothes — midshipmen in mufti — yes, you are 
so; a couple of young swindlers, without a sixpence in 
your pockets, passing yourselves oil as young men of for- 
tune, and walking off through the window without paying 
your bill.” 

“Do you mean to call me a swindler, sir?” replied 
Jack. 

“Yes, sir, you ” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


185 


“Then yon lie,” exclaimed our hero in a rage. “I 
am a gentleman, sir — I am sorry I cannot pay you the 
same compliment.” 

The astonishment and rage of Captain Tartar took away 
his breath. He tried to speak, but could not — he gasped, 
and gasped, and then sat or almost fell down in his chair 
— at last he recovered himself. 

“Matthews — Matthews!” 

“Sir,” replied the coxswain, who had remained at the 
door. 

“The sergeant of marines.” 

“Here he is, sir.” 

The sergeant entered and raised the back of his hand 
to his hat. 

“Bring your marines in — take charge of these two. 
Directly you are on board, put them both legs in irons.” 

The marines with their bayonets walked in and took 
possession of our hero and Gascoigne. 

“Perhaps, sir,” replied Jack, who was now cool again, 
“you will permit us to pay our bill before we go on board. 
We are no swindlers, and it is rather a heavy one — or, as 
you have taken possession of our persons, you will, per- 
haps, do us the favor to discharge it yourself;” and Jack 
threw on the table a heavy purse of dollars. “I have only 
to observe, Captain Tartar, that I wish to be very liberal 
to the waiters.” 

“Sergeant, letidiem pay their bill,” said Captain Tar- 
tar, in a more subdued tone — taking his hat and sword 
and walking out of the room. 

“By heavens, Easy, what have you done? You will 
be tried by a court-martial, and turned out of the 
service.” 

“I hope so,” replied Jack; “I was a fool to come into 
it. But he called me a swindler, and I would give the 
same answer to-morrow.” 

“If you are ready, gentlemen,” said the sergeant, who 
had been long enough with Captain Tartar to be aware 
that to be punished by him was no proof of fault having 
been committed. 

“I will go and pack up our things, Easy, while you pay 
the bill,” said Gascoigne. “Marine, you had better come 
with me.” 

In less than half an hour, our hero and his comrade, 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


instead of finding themselves at the marquesa’s ball, founa. 
themselves very comfortably in irons under the half-deck of 
II. M. frigate Aurora. 

We shall leave them and return to Captain Tartar, who 
had proceeded to the hall, to which he had been invited. 
On his entering he was accosted by Don Martin and Don 
Philip, who inquired what had become of our hero and 
his friend. Captain Tartar, who was in no very good 
humor, replied briskly, that “they were on board his ship 
in irons.” 

“In irons! for what?” exclaimed Don Philip. 

“Because, sir, they are a couple of young scamps who 
have introduced themselves into the best company, pass- 
ing themselves off as people of consequence, when they 
are only a couple of midshipmen who have run away from 
their ship.” 

Now the Kebieras knew very well that Jack and his 
friend were midshipmen; but this did not appear to them 
any reason why they should not be considered as gentle- 
men and treated accordingly. 

“Do you mean to say, signor,” said Don Philip, “that 
you have accepted their hospitality, laughed, talked, 
walked arm in arm with them, pledged them in wine, as 
we have seen you this evening, and after they have con- 
fided in you that you have put them in irons?” 

“Yes, sir, I do,” replied Captain Tartar. 

“Then, by heaven, you have my defiance, and you are 
no gentleman!” replied Don Philip, the elder. 

“And I repeat my brother’s words, sir,” cried Don 
Martin. 

The two brothers felt so much attachment for our hero, 
who had twice rendered such signal service to their fam- 
ily, that their anger was without bounds. 

In every other service but the English navy, there is 
not that power of grossly insulting and then sheltering 
yourself under your rank ; nor is it necessary for the dis- 
cipline of any service. To these young officers, if the 
power did exist, the use of such power under such circum- 
stances appeared monstrous, and they were determined, at 
all events, to show to Captain Tartar, that in society, at 
least, it could be resented. They collected their friends, 
told them what had passed, and begged them to circulate 
it through the room. This was soon done, and Captain 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


187 


Tartar found himself avoided. He went up to the mar- 
quesa and spoke to her— she turned her head the other 
way. He addressed a count he had been conversing with 
the night before — he turned short round upon his heel, 
while Don Philip and Don Martin walked up and down 
talking, so that he might hear what they said, and looking 
at him with eyes flashing with indignation. Captain 
Tartar left the ball-room and returned to the inn, more 
indignant than ever. When he rose the next morning he 
was informed that a gentleman wished to speak with him; 
he sent up his card as Don Ignatio Verez, colonel com- 
manding the fourth regiment of infantry. On being ad- 
mitted, he informed Captain Tartar that Don Philip de 
Rebiera wished to have the pleasure of crossing swords 
with him, and requested to know when it would be con- 
venient for Captain Tartar to meet him. 

It was not in Captain Tartar’s nature to refuse a chal- 
lenge, his courage was unquestionable, hut he felt indig- 
nant that a midshipman should he the cause of his getting 
into such a scrape. He accepted the challenge, but 
having no knowledge of the small sword, refused to fight 
unless with pistols. To this the colonel raised no objec- 
tions, and Captain Tartar dispatched his coxswain with 
a note to his second lieutenant, for he was not on good 
terms with his first. The meeting took place — at the 
first fire, the ball of Don Philip passed through Captain 
Tartar’s brain, and he instantly fell dead. The second 
lieutenant hastened on board to report the fatal result of 
the meeting, and shortly after, Don Philip and his 
brother, with many of their friends, went off in the gov- 
ernor’s barge to condole with our hero. 

The first lieutenant, now captain pro tempore , received 
them graciously, and listened to their remonstrance? 
relative to our hero and Gascoigne. 

“I have never been informed by the captain of the 
grounds of complaint against the young gentlemen,” 
replied he, “and have therefore no charge to prefer against 
them. I shall therefore order them to be liberated. But, 
as I learn that they are officers belonging to one of his 
majesty’s ships lying at Malta, I feel it my duty, as I sail 
immediately, to take them there and send them on board 
of their own ship.” 

Jack and Gascoigne were then taken out of irons and 


/ 


188 MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 

permitted to see Don Philip, who informed them that he 
had revenged the insult, but Jack and Gascoigne did not 
wish to go on shore again after what had passed. After 
an hour’s conversation, and assurances of continued 
friendship, Don Philip, his brother, and their friends 
took leave of our two midshipmen and rowed on shore. 

And now we must be serious. 

We do not write these novels merely to amuse, we have 
always had it in our view to instruct, and it must not be 
supposed that we have no other end in view than to make 
the reader laugh. If we were to write an elaborate work 
telling truths, and plain truths, confining ourselves only 
to point out errors and to demand reform, it would not 
be read ; we have therefore selected this light and trifling 
species of writing, as it is by many denominated, as a chan- 
nel through which we may convey wholesome advice in a 
palatable shape. If we would point out an error, we draw 
a character, and although that character appears to weave 
naturally into the tale of fiction, it becomes as much a 
beacon as it is a vehicle of amusement. We consider this 
to be the true art of novel-writing, and that crime and 
folly and error can be as severely lashed, as virtue and 
morality can be upheld, by a series of amusing causes and 
effects, that entice the reader to take a medicine, which 
although rendered agreeable to the palate, still produces 
the same internal benefit as if it had been presented to 
him in its crude state, in which it would either be refused 
or nauseated. 

In our naval novels, we have often pointed out the errors 
which have existed, and still do exist, in a service which is 
an honor to its country; for what institution is there on 
earth that is perfect, or into which, if it once was perfect, 
abuses will not creep? Unfortunately, others have writ- 
ten to decry the service, and many have raised up their 
voices against our writings, because they felt that in ex- 
posing error, we were exposing them. "But to this we 
have been indifferent; we felt that we were doing good, 
and we have continued. To prove that we are correct in 
asserting that we have done good, we will, out of several, 
state one single case. 

In the “King’s Own,” a captain, when requested to 
punish a man instanter for a fault committed, replies that 
be never has and never will punish a man until twenty- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


189 


four hours after the offense, that he may not be induced 
by the anger of the moment to award a severer punish- 
ment than in his cooler moments he might think com- 
mensurate — and that he wished that the Admiralty would 
give out an order to that effect. 

Some time after the publication of that work, the order 
was given by the Admiralty, forbidding the punishment 
until a certain time had elapsed after" the offense, and 
we had the pleasure of knowing from the First Lord of 
the Admiralty of the time, that it was in consequence of 
the suggestion in the novel. 

If our writings had effected nothing else, we might still 
lay down our pen with pride and satisfaction ; but they 
have done more, much more, and while they have amused 
the reader, they have improved the service; they have 
held up in their characters a mirror, in which those who 
have been in error may see their own deformity, and many 
hints which have been given have afterward returned to 
the thought of those who have had influence, have been 
considered as their own ideas, and have been acted upon. 
The conduct of Captain Tartar may be considered as a 
libel on the service; it is not. The fault of Captain 
Tartar was not in sending them on board, or even putting 
them in irons as deserters, although under the circum- 
stances he might have shown more delicacy. The fault 
was in stigmatizing a young man as a swindler, and the 
punishment awarded to the error is intended to point 
out the moral, that such an abuse of power should be 
severely visited. The greatest error now in our service is 
the disregard shown to the feelings of the junior officers 
in the language of their superiors; that an improvement 
has taken place, I grant, but that it still exists, to a de- 
gree injurious to the service, I know too well. The articles 
of war, as our hero was informed by his captain, were 
equally binding on officers and crew; but what a dead 
letter do they become if officers are permitted to break 
them with impunity ! The captain of a ship will turn 
the hands up to punishment, read the article of war for 
the transgressing of which the punishment is inflicted, 
and to show at that time their high respect for the articles 
of war, the captain and every officer take off their hats. 
The moment the hands are piped down, the second 
article of war, which forbids all swearing, etc., in deroga- 


190 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


tion of God’s honor, is immediately disregarded. We are 
not strait-laced ; we care little about an oath as a mere 
expletive ; we refer now to swearing at others , to insulting 
their feelings grossly by coarse and intemperate language. 

We would never interfere with a man for d g his own 

eyes; but we deny the right of his d g those of another. 

The rank of a master in the service is above that of a 
midshipman ; but still the midshipman is a gentleman by 
birth, and the master, generally speaking, is not. Even 
at this moment, in the service, if the master were to 

d n the eyes of a midshipman, and tell him that he 

was a liar, would there be any redress, or if so, would it 
be commensurate to the insult? If a midshipman were 
to request a court-martial, would it be granted? Cer- 
tainly not; and yet this is a point of more importance 
than may be conceived. Our service has been wonder- 
fully improved since the peace, and those who are now 
permitted to enter it must be gentlemen. We know that 
even now there are many who cry out against this as dan- 
gerous and injurious to the service; as if education spoiled 
an officer, and the scion of an illustrious house would not 
be more careful to uphold an escutcheon without blemish 
for centuries, than one who has little more than brute 
courage; but those who argue thus are the very people 
who are injurious to the service, for they can have no 
other reason, except that they wish that the juniors may 
be tyrannized over with impunity. Be it remembered 
that these are not the observations of a junior officer, 
smarting under insult; they are the result of deep and 
calm reflection. We have arrived to that grade, that 
although we have the power to inflict, we are too high to 
receive insult; but we have not forgotten how our young 
blood has boiled when wanton, reckless, and cruel torture 
has been heaped upon our feelings, merely because, as a 
junior officer, we were not in a position to retaliate or 
even to reply. And another evil is, that this great error 
is disseminated. In observing on it, in one of our works 
called “ Peter Simple,” we have put the following true 
observation in the mouth of O’Brien. Peter observes in 
his simple, right-minded way: 

“I should think, O’Brien, that the very circumstance 
of having had your feelings so often wounded by such 
language when you were a junior officer, would make you 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


191 


doubly careful not to use it toward others, when you had 
advanced in tho service.” 

“Peter, that’s just the first feeling, which wears away 
after a time, till at last your own sense of indignation 
becomes blunted, and becomes indifferent to it; you for- 
get also that you wound the feelings of others, and carry 
the habit with you, to the great injury and disgrace of 
the service.” 

Let it not be supposed that in making these remarks 
we want to cause litigation or insubordination. On the 
contrary, we assert that this error is the cause, and event- 
ually will be much more the cause, of insubordination; 
for as the junior officers who enter the service are im- 
proved, so will they resist it. The complaint here is more 
against the officers than the captains, whose power has 
been perhaps already too much curtailed by late regula- 
tions; that power must remain, for although there may 
be some few who are so perverted as to make those whom 
they command uncomfortable, in justice to the service we 
are proud to assert that the majority acknowledge, by 
their conduct, that the greatest charm attached to power 
is to be able to make so many people happy. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

OUR HERO IS SICK WITH THE SERVICE, BUT RECOVERS 
WITH PROPER MEDICINE — AN ARGUMENT, ENDING, 
AS MOST DO, IN A BLOW-UP — MESTY LECTURES UPON 
CRANIOLOGY. 

The day after the funeral, H. M. ship Aurora sailed for 
Malta, and on her arrival the acting captain sent our two 
midshipmen on board the Harpy without any remark, 
except “victualed the 'day discharged,” as they had been 
borne on the ship’s books as supernumeraries. 

Mr. James, who was acting in the Aurora, was anxious 
to join the admiral at Toulon, and intended to sail the 
next day. He met Captain Wilson at the governor’s 
table, and stated that Jack and Gascoigne had been put 
in irons by order of Captain Tartar, his suspicions, and 
the report that the duel kad in consequence taken place; 


192 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


but Gascoigne and Jack had both agreed that they would 
not communicate the events of their cruise to anybody on 
board of the Aurora; and therefore nothing else was 
known, except that they must have made powerful friends 
somehow or another; and there appeared in the conduct 
of Captain Tartar, as well as in the whole transaction, 
somewhat of a mystery. 

“I should like to know what happened to my friend 
Jack, who fought the duel,” said the governor, who had 
laughed at it till he held his sides; “Wilson, do bring 
him here to-morrow morning, and let us have his story.” 

“I am afraid of encouraging him, Sir Thomas — he is 
much too wild already. I told you of his first cruise. He 
has nothing but adventures, and they all end too favor- 
ably.” 

“Well, but you can send for him here and blow him up, 
just as well as in your own cabin, and then we will have 
the truth out of him.” 

“That you certainly will,” replied Captain Wilson, “for 
he tells it plainly enough.” * 

“Well, to oblige me send for him — I don’t see he was 
much to blame in absconding, as it appears he thought he 
would be hung — I want to see the lad.” 

“Well, governor, if you wish it,” replied Captain 
Wilson, who wrote a note to Mr. Sawbridge, requesting 
he would send Mr. Easy to him at the governor’s house, 
at ten o’clock in the morning. 

Jack made his appearance in his uniform — he did not 
much care for what was said to him, as he was resolved to 
leave the service. He had been put in irons, and the 
iron had entered into his soul. 

Mr. Sawbridge had gone on shore about an hour before 
Jack had been sent on board, and he had remained on 
shore all the night. He did not, therefore, see Jack but 
for a few minutes, and thinking it his duty to say nothing 
to him at first, or to express his displeasure, he merely 
observed to him that the captain would speak to him as 
soon as he came on board. As Gascoigne and our hero 
did not know how far it might be safe, even at Malta, to 
acknowledge to what occurred on board the speronare, 
which might get wind, they did not even tell their mess- 
mates, resolving only to confide it to the captain. 

When Jack was ushered into the presence of the cap 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


193 


tain, he found him sitting with the governor, and the 
breakfast on the table ready for them. Jack walked in 
with courage, but respectfully. He was fond of Captain 
Wilson, and wished to show him respect. Captain Wilson 
addressed him, pointed out that he had committed a great 
error in fighting a duel, a greater error in demeaning 
himself by fighting the purser’s steward, and still greater 
in running away from his ship. Jack looked respectfully 
to Captain Wilson, acknowledged that he had done wrong, 
and promised to be more careful another time, if Captain 
Wilson would look over it. 

“Captain Wilson, allow me to plead for the young gen- 
tleman,” said the governor; “I am convinced that it has 
only been an error in judgment.” 

“Well, Mr. Easy, as you express your contrition, and 
the governor interferes in your behalf, I shall take no 
more notice of this; but recollect, Mr. Easy, that you 
have occasioned me a great deal of anxiety by your mad 
pranks, and, I trust, another time you will remember that 
I am too anxious for your welfare not to be uncomforta- 
ble when you run such risks. You may now go on board 
to your duty, and tell Mr. Gascoigne to do the same; and 
pray let us hear of no more duels or running away.” 

Jack, whose heart softened at this kind treatment, did 
not venture to speak; he made his bow, and was about 
to quit the room, when the governor said: 

“Mr. Easy, you have not breakfasted.” 

“I have, sir,” replied Jack, “before I came on shore.” 

“But a midshipman can always eat two breakfasts, 
particularly when his own comes first — so sit down and 
breakfast with us — it’s all over now.” 

“Even if it was not,” replied Captain Wilson, laugh- 
ing, “I doubt whether it would spoil Mr. Easy’s break- 
fast; come, Mr. Easy, sit down.” 

Jack bowed and took his chair, and proved that his 
lecture had not taken away his appetite. When breakfast 
was over, Captain Wilson observed: 

“Mr. Easy, you have generally a few adventures to 
speak of when you return; will you tell the governor and 
me what has taken place since you left us?” 

“Certainly, sir,” replied Jack; “but I venture to re- 
quest that it may be under the promise of secrecy, for it’s 
rather important to me and Gascoigne.” • 


194 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“Yes, if secrecy is really necessary, my boy; but I’m 
the best judge of that,” replied the governor. 

Jack then entered into a detail of his adventures, which 
we have already described, much to the astonishment of 
the governor and his captain, and concluded his narration 
by stating that he wanted to leave the service; he hoped 
that Captain Wilson would discharge him and send him 
home. 

“Pooh, nonsense!” said the governor, “you shan’t leave 
the Mediterranean while I am here. No, no; you must 
have more adventures, and come back and tell them to 
me. And recollect, my lad, that whenever you come to 
Malta, there is a bed at the governor’s house, and a seat 
at his table, always ready for you.” 

“You are very kind, Sir Thomas,” replied Jack, 
“but ” 

“No buts at all, sir — you shan’t leave the service; be- 
sides, recollect that I can ask for leave of absence for you 
to go and see Donna Agnes — ay, and send you there too.” 

Captain Wilson also remonstrated with our hero, and he 
gave up the point. It was harsh treatment which made 
him form the resolution, it was kindness which overcame 
it. 

“With your permission, Captain Wilson, Mr. Easy shall 
dine with us to-day and bring Gascoigne with him ; you 
shall first scold him, and I’ll console him with a good 
dinner — and, boy, don’t be afraid to tell your story every- 
where; sit down and tell it at Nix Mangare stairs, if you 
please — I’m governor here.” 

Jack made his obeisance and departed. 

“The lad must be treated kindly, Captain Wilson,” 
said the governor; “he would be a loss to the service. 
Good heavens, what adventures! and how honestly he 
tells everything. I shall ask him to stay with me for the 
time you are here, if you will allow me. I want to make 
friends with him; he must not leave the service.” 

Captain Wilson, who felt that kindness and attention 
would be more effectual with our hero than any other 
measures, gave his consent to the governor’s proposition. 
So Jack ate at the governor’s table, and took lessons in 
Spanish and Italian until the Harpy had been refitted, 
after heaving down. Before she was ready a vessel arrived 
from the fleet, directing Captain Wilson to repair te 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


195 


Mahon, and send a transport, lying there, to procure live 
bullocks for the fleet. Jack did not join his ship very will- 
ingly, but he had promised the governor to remain in the 
service, and he went on board the evening before she 
sailed. He had been living so well that he had, at first, 
a horror of midshipman’s fare, but a good appetite seasons 
everything, and Jack soon complained that there was not 
enough. He was delighted to see Jolliffe and Mesty after 
so long an absence; he laughed at the boatswain’s cheeks, 
inquired after the purser’s steward’s shot-holes, shook 
hands with Gascoigne, and his other messmates, gave 
Vigors a thrashing, and then sat down to supper. 

“Ah, Massa Easy, why you take a cruise without me?” 
said Mesty; “dat very shabby — by de power, but I wish 
I was there; you ab too much danger, Massa Easy, with- 
out Mesty, anyhow.” 

The next day the Harpy sailed, and Jack went to his 
duty. Mr. Asper borrowed ten pounds, and our hero kept 
as much watch as he pleased, which, as watching did not 
please him, was very little. Mr. Sawbridge had long con- 
versations with our hero, pointing out to him the necessity 
of discipline and obedience in the service, and that there 
was no such thing as equality, and that the rights of man 
secured to every one the property which he held in 
possession. 

“According to your ideas, Mr. Easy, a man has no 
more right to his wife than anything else, and any other 
man may claim her.” 

Jack thought of Agnes, and he made matrimony an 
exception, as he continued to argue the point; but al- 
though he argued, still his philosophy was almost upset 
at the idea of any one disputing with him the rights of 
man with respect to Agnes. 

The Harpy made the African coast, the wind continued 
contrary, and they were baffled for many days; at last 
they espied a brig under the land, about sixteen miles off; 
her rig and appearance made Captain Wilson suspect that 
she was a privateer of some description or another, but it 
was calm, and they could not approach her. Neverthe- 
less, Captain Wilson thought it his duty to examine her; 
so at ten o’clock at night the boats were hoisted out; 
as this was merely intended for a reconnoiter, for there 
was no saying what she might be, Mr. Sawbridge did not 


196 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


go. Mr. Asper was on the sick- list, so Mr. Smallsole, the 
master, had the command of the expedition. Jack asked 
Mr. Sawbridge to let him have charge of one of the boats. 
Mr. Jolliffe and Mr. Vigors went in the pinnace with the 
master. The gunner had the charge of one cutter, and 
our hero had the command of the other. Jack, although 
not much more than seventeen, was very strong and tall 
for his age; indeed, he was a man grown, and shaved 
twice a week. His only object in going was to have a yarn 
for the governor when lie returned to Malta. Mesty 
went with him, and, as the boat shoved off, Gascoigne 
slipped in, telling Jack that he was come to take care of 
him, for which considerate kindness Jack expressed his 
warmest thanks. The orders to the master were very 
explicit; he was to reconnoiter the vessel, and if she 
proved heavily armed, not to attack, for she was embayed, 
and could not escape the Harpy as soon as there was wind. 
If not armed, he was to board her, but he was to do noth- 
ing till the morning. The reason for sending the boats 
away so soon was, that the men might not suffer from the 
heat of the sun during the daytime, which was excessive, 
and had already put many men on the sick-list. The 
boats were to pull to the bottom of the bay, not to go so 
near as to be discovered, and then drop their grapnels till 
daylight. The orders were given to Mr. Smallsole in 
presence of the other officers who were appointed to the 
boats, that there might be no mistake, and the boats then 
shoved off. After a three hours’ pull they arrived to 
where the brig lay becalmed, and as they saw no lights 
moving on board, they supposed they were not seen. 
They dropped their grapnels in about seven fathoms 
water, and waited for daylight. When Jack heard Cap- 
tain Wilson’s orders that they were to lie at anchor till 
daylight, he had sent down Mesty for fishing-lines, as 
fresh fish is always agreeable in a midshipman’s berth ; he 
and Gascoigne amused themselves in this way, and as they 
pulled up the fish they entered into an argument, and 
Mr. Smallsole ordered them to be silent. The point 
which they discussed was relative to boat service; Gas- 
coigne insisted that the boats should all board at once — 
while our hero took it into his head that it was better they 
should come up one after another; a novel idea, but 
Jack’s ideas on most points were singular. 


19 ? 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 

‘ ‘If you throw your whole force upon the decks at once, 
you overpower them,” observed Gascoigne; “if you do 
not, you are beaten in detail.” 

“Very true,” replied Jack, “supposing that you have 
an overpowering force, or they are not prepared; but 
recollect, that if they are the case is altered; for instance, 
as to firearms — they fire theirs at the first boat, and they 
have not time to reload, when the second comes up with its 
fire reserved ; every fresh boat arriving adds to the courage 
of those who have boarded, and to the alarm of, those who 
defend; the men come on fresh and fresh. Depend upon 
it, Gascoigne, there is nothing like a corps de reserve .” 

“Will you keep silence in your boat, Mr. Easy, or will 
you not?” cried the master; “you’re a disgrace to the 
service, sir.” 

“Thank ye, sir,” replied Jack in a low tone. “I’ve 
another bite, Ned.” 

Jack and his comrade continued to fish in silence till 
the day broke. The mist rolled off the stagnant water, 
and discovered the brig, who, as soon as she perceived the 
boats, threw out the French tricolor and fired a gun of 
defiance. 

Mr. Smallsole was undecided ; the gun fired was not a 
heavy one, and so Mr. Jolliffe remarked; the men, as 
usual, anxious for the attack, asserted the same, and Mr. 
Smallsole, afraid of retreating from the enemy and being 
afterward despised by the ship’s company, ordered the 
boats to weigh their grapnels. 

“Stop a moment, my lads,” said Jack to his men, “I’ve 
got a bite.” The men laughed at Jack’s taking it so easy, 
but he was their pet; and they did stop for him to pull 
up his fish, intending to pull up to the other boats and 
recover* their loss of a few seconds. 

“I’ve hooked him now,” said Jack; “you may up with 
the grapnels while I up with the fish.” But this delay 
gave the other boats a start of a dozen strokes of their 
oars, which was a distance not easy to be regained. 

“They will be aboard before us, sir,” said the coxswain. 

“Never mind that,” replied Jack; “some one must be 
last.” 

“But not the boat I am in,” replied Gascoigne; “if 
I could help it.” 


198 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


reserve, and have the honor of turning the scale in out 
favor.” 

“Give way, my lads,” cried Gascoigne, perceiving the 
other boats still kept their distance ahead of them, which 
was about a cable’s length. 

“Gascoigne, I command the boat,” said Jack, “and I 
do not wish my men to board without any breath in their 
bodies — that’s a very unwise plan. A steady pull, my 
lads, and not too much exertion.” 

“By heavens, they’ll take the vessel before we get 
alongside.” 

“Even if they should, I am right, am I not, Mesty?” 

“Yes, Massa Easy, you very right — suppose they take 
vessel without you, they no want you — suppose they want 
you, you come.” And the negro, who had thrown his 
jacket off, bared his arm, as if he intended mischief. 

The first cutter, commanded by the gunner, now gained 
upon the launch, and was three boat’s lengths ahead of 
her when she came alongside. The brig poured in her 
broadside — it was well directed, and down went the boat. 

“Cutter’s sunk,” exclaimed Gascoigne, “by heavens! 
Give way, my men.” 

“Now, don’t you observe, that had we all three been 
pulling up together, the broadside would have sunk us 
all?” said Jack very composedly. 

“There’s board in the launch — give way, my men, give 
way,” said Gascoigne, stamping with impatience. 

The reception was evidently warm; by the time that 
the launch had poured in her men the second cutter was 
close under the brig’s quarter — two more strokes and she 
was alongside; when of a sudden, a tremendous explosion 
took place on the deck of the vessel, and bodies and frag- 
ments were hurled up in the air. So tremendous was the 
explosion that the men of the second cutter, as if trans- 
fixed, simultaneously stopped pulling, their eyes directed 
to the volumes of smoke which poured through the ports 
and hid the whole of the masts and rigging of the vessel. 

“Now’s your time, my lads, give way and alongside,” 
cried our hero. 

The men, reminded by his voice, obeyed — but the im- 
petus already given to the boat was sufficient. Before 
they could drop their oars in the water they grazed against 
the vessel’s side, and, following Jack, were in a few 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


m 


seconds on the quarter-deck of the vessel. A dreadful 
sight presented itself — the whole deck was black, and 
corpses lay strewed, their clothes on them still burning, 
and among the bodies lay fragments of what once were 
men. 

The capstern was unshipped and turned over on its side 
— the binnacles were in remnants, and many of the ropes 
ignited. There was not one person left on deck to oppose 
them. 

As they afterward learned from soiye of the men w T ho 
had saved their lives by remaining below, the French 
captain had seen the boats before they anchored, and had 
made every preparation ; he had filled a large ammunition- 
chest with cartridges for the guns, that they might not 
have to hand them up. The conflict between the men of 
the pinnace and the crew of the vessel was carried on near 
the capstern, and a pistol fired had accidentally communi- 
cated with the powder, which blew up in the very center 
of the dense and desperate struggle. 

The first object was to draw water and extinguish the 
flames, which were spreading over the vessel ; as soon as 
that was accomplished, our hero went aft to the taffrail, 
and looked for the cutter which had been sunk — “Gas- 
coigne, jump into the boat with four men — I see the cut- 
ter floats a quarter of a mile astern; there may be some 
one alive yet. I think now I see a head or two/ ’ 

Gascoigne hastened away, and soon returned with three 
of the cutter’s men; the rest had sunk, probably killed or 
wounded by the discharge of the broadside. 

“Thank God, there’s three saved!” said Jack, “for we 
have lost too many. We must now see if any of these 
poor fellows are yet alive, and clear the decks of the rem- 
nants of those who have been blown to pieces. I say, 
Ned, where should we have been if we had boarded with 
the pinnace?” 

“You always fall upon your feet, Easy,” replied Gas- 
coigne; “but that does not prove that you are right.” 

“I see there’s no convincing you, Ned, you are so con- 
foundedly fond of argument. However, I’ve no time to 
argue now — we must look to these poor fellows; some are 
still alive.” 

Body after body was thrown through the ports, the 
habiliments, in most cases, enabling them to distinguish 
whether it was that of a departed friend or foe. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 

Jack turned round and observed Mesty with his -foot on 
a head which had been blown from the trunk. 

“What are you about, Mesty?” 

“Massa Easy, I look at dis, and I tink it Massa Vigors’ 
head, and den I tink dis skull of his enemy nice present 
make to little Massa Gossett; and den I tink again, and I 
say, no, he dead and nebber thrash any more — so let him 
go overboard.” 

Jack turned away, forgiving Vigors in his heart; he 
thought of the petty animosities of a midshipman’s berth 
as he looked at the blackened portion of a body, half an 
hour before possessing intellect. 

“Massa Easy,” said Mesty, “I tink you say right, any- 
how, when you say you forgive: den, Massa Vigors,” con- 
tinued Mesty, taking up the head by the singed hair, and 
tossing it out of the port; “you really very bad man — but 
Ashantee forgive you.” 

“Here’s somebody alive,” said Gascoigne to Jack, ex- 
amining a body, the face of which was black as a cinder 
and not to be recognized, “and he is one of our men too, 
by his dress.” 

Our hero went up to examine and to assist Gascoigne in 
disengaging the body from a heap of ropes and half-burnt 
tarpaulins with which it was entangled. Mesty followed, 
and looking at the lower extremities said, “Massa Easy, 
dat Massa Jolliffe, I know him trousers; marine tailor say 
he patch um forever, and so old dat de thread no hold ; 
yesterday he hab dis patch put in, and marine tailor say 
he be d — mn if he patch any more, please nobody.” 

Mesty was right, it was poor Jolliffe, whose face was 
’burned as black as coal by the explosion. He had also lost 
three fingers of the left hand, but as soon as he was 
brought out on the deck he appeared to recover, and 
pointed to his mouth for water, which was instantly pro- 
cured. 

“Mesty,” said Jack, “I leave you in charge of Mr. 
Jolliffe; take every care of him till I can come back.” 

The investigation was then continued, and four English 
sailors found who might be expected to recover, as well as 
about the same number of Frenchmen; the remainder of 
the bodies were then thrown overboard. The hat only of 
the master was picked up between the guns, and there 
were but eleven Frenchmen found below. 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


261 


The vessel was the Franklin, a French privateer, of ten 
guns and sixty-five men, of which eight men were away 
in prizes. The loss on the part of the vessel was forty- 
six killed and wounded. On that of the Harpy, it was 
five drowned in the cutter, and eighteen blown up belong- 
ing to the pinnace, out of which total of twenty-three, 
they had only Mr. Jolliffe and five seamen alive. 

“The Harpy is standing in with a breeze from the 
offing/’ said Gascoigne to Easy. 

“So much the better, for I’m sick of this, Ned, there is 
something so horrible in it, and I wish I was on board 
again. I have just been to Jolliffe; he can speak a little; 
I think he will recover. I hope so, poor fellow, he will 
then obtain his promotion, for he is the commanding 
officer of all us who are left.” 

“And if he does,” replied Gascoigne, “he can swear 
that it was by having been blown up which spoiled his 
beauty — but here comes the Harpy. I have been looking 
for an English ensign to hoist over the French, but cannot 
find one, so I hoist a wheft over it; that will do.” 

The Harpy was soon hove-to close to the brig, and Jack 
went on board in the cutter to report what had taken 
place. Captain Wilson was much vexed and grieved at 
the loss of so many men; fresh hands were put in the 
cutter to man the pinnace, and he and Sawbridge both 
went on board to witness the horrible effects of the ex- 
plosion as described by our hero. 

Jolliffe and the wounded men were taken on board, and 
all of them recovered. We have before stated how dis- 
figured the countenance of poor Mr. Jolliffe had been by 
the small-pox — so severely was it burned that the whole 
of the countenance came off in three weeks like a mask, 
and every one declared that, seamed as it still was, Mr. 
Jolliffe was better-looking than he was before. It may be 
as well here to state that Mr. Jolliffe not only obtained 
his promotion, but a pension for his wounds, and retired 
from the service. He was still very plain, but as it was 
known that he had been blown up, the loss of his eye as 
well as the scars on his face were all put down to the 
same accident, and he excited interest as a gallant and 
maimed officer. He married and lived contented and 
happy to a good old age. 

The Harpy proceeded with her prize to Mahon; Jack, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


20 $ 


as usual, obtained a great deal of credit; whether he 
deserved it, or whether, as Gascoigne observed, he al- 
ways fell upon his feet, the reader may decide from our 
' narrative ; perhaps there was a little of both. The sea- 
men of the Harpy, if summoned in a hurry, used very 
often to reply, “Stop a minute, I’ve got a bite” — as for 
Jack, he often said to himself, “I’ve a famous good yam 
for the governor.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

JACK GOES ON ANOTHER CRUISE — LOYE AND DIPLOMACY 
— JACK PROVES HIMSELF TOO CLEVER FOR THREE, 
AND UPSETS ALL THE ARRANGEMENTS OF THE HIGH 
CONTRACTING POWERS. 

A few days after the arrival of the Harpy at Port 
Mahon, a cutter came in with dispatches from the ad- 
miral. Captain Wilson found that he was posted into the 
Aurora frigate, in which a vacancy had been made by the 
result of our hero’s trangressions. 

Mr. Sawbridge was raised to the rank of commander, 
and appointed to the command of the Harpy. The ad- 
miral informed Captain Wilson that he must detain the 
Aurora until the arrival of another frigate, hourly ex- 
pected, and then she would be sent down to Mahon for 
him to take command of her. Further, he intimated that 
a supply of live bullocks would be very agreeable and 
begged that he would send to Tetuan immediately. 

Captain Wilson had lost so many officers that he knew 
not whom to send ; indeed, now he was no longer in com- 
mand of the Harpy, and there was but one lieutenant, 
and no master or master’s mate. Gascoigne and Jack 
were the only two serviceable midshipmen, and he was 
afraid to trust them on any expedition in which expedi- 
tion was required. 

“What shall we do, Sawbridge? shall we send Easy or 
Gascoigne, or both, or neither? — for if the bullocks are 
not forthcoming, the admiral will not let them off as we 
do.” 

“We must send somebody Wilson,” replied Captain 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


203 


Sawbridge, “and it is the custom to send two officers, as 
one receives the bullocks on board, while the other at- 
tends to the embarkation.” 

“Well, then, send both, Sawbridge, but lecture them 
well first.” 

“I don’t think they can get into any mischief there,” 
replied Sawbridge; “and it’s such a hole that they will 
be glad to get away from it.” 

Easy and Gascoigne were summoned, listened very re- 
spectfully to all Captain Sawbridge said, promised to con- 
duct themselves with the utmost propriety, received a 
letter to the vice-consul, and were sent with their ham- 
mocks and chests in the cabin, on board the Mary Ann 
brig, of two hundred and sixteen tons, chartered by gov- 
ernment — the master and crew of which were all busy 
forward heaving up their anchors. 

The master of the transport came aft to receive them. 
He was a short, red-haired young man, with hands as 
broad as the flappers of a turtle; he was broad-faced, 
broad-shouldered, well freckled, and pug-nosed; but if 
not very handsome he was remarkably good-humored. As 
soon as the chests and hammocks were on the deck, he 
told them that when he could get the anchor up and 
make sail, he would give them some bottled porter. Jack 
proposed that he should get the porter up, and they would 
drink it while he got the anchor up, as it would save 
time. 

“It may save time, mayhap, but it won’t save porter,” 
replied the master; “however, you shall have it.” 

He called the boy, ordered him to bring up the porter, 
and then went forward. Jack made the boy bring up two 
chairs, put the porter on the companion-hatch, and he 
and Gascoigne sat down. The anchor was weighed, and 
the transport ran out under her fore-topsail, as they were 
light-handed, and had to secure the anchor. The trans- 
port passed within ten yards of the Harpy, and Captain 
Sawbridge, when he perceived the two midshipmen taking 
it so very easy, sitting in their chairs with their legs 
crossed, arms folded, and their porter before them, had 
a very great mind to order the transport to heave-to; but 
he could spare no other officer, so he walked away, saying 
to himself, “There’ll be another varn for the governor, or 
I’m mistaken.” 


204 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


As soon as sail was made on the transport, the master, 
whose name was Hogg, came up to our hero, and asked 
him how he found the porter. Jack declared that he 
never could venture an opinion upon the first bottle — “So, 
Captain Hogg, we’ll trouble you for a second” — after 
which they troubled him for a third — begged for a fourth 
— must drink his health in a fifth, and finally, pointed 
out the propriety of making up the half-dozen. By this 
time they found themselves rather light-headed, so, desir- 
ing Captain Hogg to keep a sharp lookout, and not to call 
them on any account whatever, they retired to their ham- 
mocks. 

The next morning they awoke late; the breeze was 
fresh and fair; they requested Captain Hogg not to con- 
sider the expense, as they would pay for all they ate and 
drank, and all he did, into the bargain, and promised him 
a fit-out when they got to Tetuan. 

What with this promise and calling him captain, our 
hero and Gascoigne won the master’s heart, and being a 
very good-tempered fellow, they did what they pleased. 
Jack also tossed a doubloon to the men for them to 
drink on their arrival, and all the men of the transport 
were in a transport at Jack’s coming to “reign over them.” 
It must be acknowledged that Jack’s reign was, for the 
most part of it, “happy and glorious.” At last they 
arrived at Tetuan, and our Pylades and Orestes went on 
shore to call upon the vice-consul, accompanied by Cap- 
tain Hogg. They produced their credentials and de- 
manded bullocks. The vice-consul was a very young man, 
short and thin and light-haired; his father had held the 
situation before him, and he had been appointed his suc- 
cessor, because nobody else had thought the situation 
worth applying for. Nevertheless, Mr. Hicks was im- 
pressed with the immense responsibility of his office. It 
was, however, a place of some little emolument at this 
moment, and Mr. Hicks had plenty on his hands besides 
his sister, who being the only English lady there, set the 
fashion of the place, and usurped all the attention of the 
gentlemen mariners who occasionally came for bullocks. 
But Miss Hicks knew her own importance, and had suc- 
cessively refused three midshipmen, one master’s mate, 
and an acting purser. African bullocks were plentiful at 
Tetuan, but English ladies were scarce; moreover, she 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


205 


had a pretty little fortune of her own, to wit, three hun- 
dred dollars in a canvas bag, left her by her father, and 
entirely at her own disposal. Miss Hicks was very like 
her brother, except that she was more dumpling in her 
figure, with flaxen hair; her features were rather pretty, 
and her skin very fair. As soon as the preliminaries had 
been entered into, and arrangements made in a small 
room with bare walls which Mr. Hicks denominated his 
office, they were asked to walk into the parlor to be intro- 
duced to the vice-consurs sister. Miss Hicks tossed her 
head at the two midshipmen, but smiled most graciously 
at Captain Hogg. She knew the relative ranks of mid- 
shipman and captain. After a short time she requested 
the honor of Captain Hogg’s company to dinner, and 
begged that he would bring his midshipmen with him, 
at which Jack and Gascoigne looked at each other and 
burst out in a laugh, and Miss Hicks was very near re- 
scinding the latter part of her invitation. As soon as 
they were out of the house, they* told the captain to go on 
board and get all ready while they walked round the 
town. Having peeped into every part of it, and stared at 
Arabs, Moors, and Jews till they were tired, they pro- 
ceeded to the landing-place, where they met the captain, 
who informed them that he had done nothing, because 
the men were all drunk with Jack’s doubloon. Jack re- 
plied that a doubloon would not last forever, and that the 
sooner they drank it out the better. They then returned 
to the vice-consul’s, whom they requested to procure for 
them fifty dozen of fowls, twenty sheep, and a great many 
other articles, which might be obtained at the place; for, 
as Jack said, they would live well going up to Toulon, and 
if there were any of the stock left, they would give them 
to the admiral, for Jack had taken the precaution to put 
his father's 'philosophy once more to the proof before he 
quitted Mahon. As Jack gave such a liberal order, and 
the vice-consul cheated him out of at least one-third of 
what he paid, Mr. Hicks thought he could do no less than 
offer beds to our midshipmen as well as to Captain Hogg; 
so, as soon as dinner was over, they ordered Captain Hogg 
to go on board and bring their things on shore, which he 
did. As the time usual for transports remaining at 
Tetuan before they could be completed with bullocks was 
three weeks, our midshipmen decided upon staying at 


206 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


least so long, if they could find anything to do, or if they 
could not, doing nothing was infinitely preferable to doing 
duty. So they took up their quarters at the vice-consul's, 
sending for porter and other things which were not to be 
had but from the transport; and Jack, to prove that he 
was not a swindler, as Captain Tartar had called him, gave 
Captain Hogg a hundred dollars on account, for Captain 
Hogg had a large stock of porter and English luxuries, 
which he had brought out as a venture, and of which he had 
still a considerable portion left. As, therefore, our mid- 
shipmen not only were cheated by the vice-consul, but 
they also supplied his table, Mr. Hicks was very hospitable, 
and everything was at their service except Miss Julia, 
who turned up her nose at a midshipman, even upon full 
pay; but she made great advances to the captain, who, 
on his part, was desperately in love ; so the mate and the 
men made all ready for the bullocks, Jack and Gascoigne 
made themselves comfortable, and Captain Hogg made 
love, and thus passed the first week. 

The chamber of Easy and Gascoigne was at the top of 
the house, and finding it excessively warm, Gascoigne had 
forced his way up to the flat roof above (for the houses are 
all built in that way in most Mohammedan countries, to 
enable the occupants to enjoy the cool of the evening, and 
sometimes to sleep there). Those roofs, where houses are 
built next to each other, are divided by a wall of several 
feet to insure that privacy which the Mohammedan cus- 
toms demand. 

Gascoigne had not been long up there before he heard 
the voice of a female, singing a plaintive air in a low tone, 
on the other side of the wall. Gascoigne sang well him- 
self, and having a very fine ear, he was pleased with the 
correctness of the notes, although he had never heard the 
air before. He leaned against the wall, smoked his cigar, 
and listened. It was repeated again and again at inter- 
vals; Gascoigne soon caught the notes, which sounded so 
clear and pure in the silence of the night. 

At last they ceased, and having waited another half- 
hour in vain, our midshipman returned to his bed, hum- 
ming the air which had so pleased his ear. It haunted 
him during his sleep, and rang in his ears when he awoke, 
as it is well known any new air that pleases us will do. 
Before breakfast was ready, Gascoigne had put English 


ME. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


207 


words to it, and sang them over and over again. He in- 
quired of the vice-consul who lived in the next house, 
and was answered that it was an old Moor, who was re- 
ported to be wealthy, and to have a daughter, whom many 
of the people had asked in marriage, but whether for her 
wealth or for her beauty he could not tell; he had, how- 
ever,- heard that she was very handsome. Gascoigne made 
no further inquiries, but went out with Jack and Captain 
Hogg, and on board to see the water got in for the bul- 
locks. 

“Where did" you pick up that air, Gascoigne? It is 
very pretty; but I never heard you sing it before.” 

Gascoigne told him, and also what he had heard from 
Mr. Hicks. 

“I’m determined, Jack, to see that girl if I can. Hicks 
can talk Arabic fast enough; just ask him the Arabic for 
these words — “Don’t be afraid — I love you — I cannot 
speak your tongue” — and put them down on paper as 
they are pronounced.” 

Jack rallied Gascoigne upon his fancy, which could 
end in nothing. 

“Perhaps not,” replied Gascoigne; “and I should have 
cared nothing about it, if she had not sung so well. I 
really believe the way to my heart is through my ear; how- 
ever, I shall try to-night, and soon find if she has the 
feeling which I think she has. Now let us go back ; I’m 
tired of looking at women in garments up to their eyes, 
and men in dirt up to their foreheads.” 

As they entered the house they heard an altercation 
between Mr. and Miss Hicks. 

“I shall never give my consent, Julia; one of those 
midshipmen you turn your nose up at is worth a dozen 
Hoggs.” 

“Now, if we only knew the price of a hog in this 
country,” observed Easy, “we should be able to calculate 
our exact value, Ned.” 

“A hog being an unclean animal is not ” 

“Hush!” said Jack. 

“Mr. Hicks,” replied Miss Julia, “I am mistress of my- 
self and my fortune, and I shall do as I please.” 

“Depend upon it, you shall not, Julia. I consider it my 
duty to prevent you from making an improper match ; 
and, as his majesty’s representative here, I cannot allow 
you to marry this young man.” 


208 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


“Mercy on us !” said Gascoigne, “his majetsy’s repre- 
sentative !” 

“I shall not ask your consent,” replied the lady. 

“Yes, but you shall not marry without my consent. I 
have, as you know, Julia, from my situation here, as one 
of his majesty’s corps diplomatique , great power, and I 
shall forbid the banns; in fact, it is only I who can marry 
you.” 

“Then I’ll marry elsewhere.” 

“And what will you do on board of the transport until 
you are able to be married?” 

“I shall do as I think proper,” replied the lady; “and 
I’ll thank you for none of your indelicate insinuations.” 

So saying, the lady bounced out of the room into her own, 
and our midshipmen then made a noise in the passage, 
to intimate that they had come in. They found Mr. Hicks 
looking very red and vice-consular indeed, but he recov- 
ered himself; and Captain Hogg making Ms appearance 
they went to dinner; but Miss Julia would not make her 
appearance, and Mr. Hicks was barely civil to the captain, 
but he was soon afterward called out, and our midship- 
men went into the office to enable the two lovers to meet. 
They were heard then talking together, and after a time 
they said less and their language was more tender. 

“Let us see what’s going on, Jack,” said Gascoigne; 
and they walked softly so as to perceive the two lovers, 
who were too busy to he on the lookout. 

Captain Hogg was requesting a lock of his mistress’ 
hair. The plump Julia could deny him nothing; she let 
fall her flaxen tresses, and taking out the scissors, cut off 
a thick hunch from her hair behind, which she presented 
to the captain ; it was at least a foot and a half long, and \ 
an inch in circumference. The captain took it in his 
immense hand and thrust' it into his coat-pocket behind, 
but one thrust down to the bottom would not get it in, 
so he thrust again and again, until it was all coiled away 
like a cable in a tier. 

“That’s a liberal girl,” whispered Jack; “she gives by 
wholesale what it will take some time to retail. But here 
comes Mr. Hicks, let’s give them warning; I like Hogg, 
and as she fancies pork, she shall have it, if I can contrive 
to help them.” 

That night Gascoigne went again on the roof ? and after 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


209 


waiting some time, heard the same air repeated. He 
waited until it was concluded, and then, in a very low 
tone, sang it himself to the words he had arranged for 
it. For some time all was silent, and then the singing 
recommenced, but it was not to the same air. Gascoigne 
waited until the new air had been repeated several times, 
and then, giving full scope to his line tenor voice, sang 
the first air again. It echoed through the silence of the 
night air, and then he waited, but in vain; the soft voice 
of the female was heard no more, and Gascoigne retired 
to rest. 

This continued for three or four nights, Gascoigne 
singing the same airs the ensuing night that he had heard 
the preceding, until at last it appeared that the female 
had no longer any fear, but changed the airs so as to be 
amused with the repetition of them next evening. On 
the fifth night she sang the first air, and our midship- 
man responding, she then sang another, until she had 
sung them all, waiting each time for the response. The 
wall was not more than eight feet high, and Gascoigne 
now determined, with the assistance of Jack, to have a 
sight of his unknown songstress. He asked Captain Hogg 
to bring on shore some inch line, and he contrived to 
make a ladder with three or four poles, which were up- 
stairs, used for drying linen. He fixed them against the 
wall without noise, all ready for the evening. It was a 
beautiful moonlight night, when he went up, accompanied 
by Jack. The air was again sung and repeated by Gas- 
coigne, who then softly mounted the ladder, held by Jack, 
and raised his head above the wall ; he perceived a young 
Moorish girl, splendidly dressed, half-lying on an otto- 
man, with her eyes fixed upon the moon, whose rays en- 
abled him to observe that she was indeed beautiful. She 
appeared lost in contemplation; and Gascoigne would 
have given the world to have divined her thoughts. Sat- 
isfied with what he had seen, he descended, and singing 
one of the airs, he then repeated the words, “Do not be 
afraid — I love you — I cannot speak your language.” He 
then sang another of the airs, and after he had fin- 
ished, he again repeated the words in Arabic; but there 
was no reply. He sang the third air, and again repeated 
the words, when, to his delight, he heard an answer ip 
lingua Franca. 


210 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“Can you speak in this tongue?” 

“Yes;” replied Gascoigne, “I can, Allah be praised. Be 
not afraid — I love you.” 

“I know you not; who are you? you are not of my 
people.” 

“No, but I will be anything that you wish. I am a 
Frank and an English officer.” 

At this reply of Gascoigne there was a pause. 

“Am I then despised?” said Gascoigne. 

“No, not despised, but you are not of my people or of 
my land; speak no more, or you will be heard.” 

“I obey,” replied Gascoigne, “since you wish it, but I 
shall pine till to-morrow’s noon; I go to dream of you. 
Allah protect you!” 

“How amazingly poetical you were in your language, 
Ned,” said Easy, when they went down into their room. 

“To be sure, Jack, I’ve read the ‘Arabian Nights.’ 
You never saw such eyes in your life; what a houri she 
is!” 

“Is she as handsome as Agnes, Ned?” 

“Twice as handsome by moonlight.” 

“That’s all moonshine, and so will be your courting, 
for it will come to nothing.” 

“Not if I can help it.” 

“Why, Gascoigne, what would you do with a wife?” 

“Just exactly what you would do, Jack.” 

“I mean, my dear Ned, can you afford to marry?” 

“Not while the old governor lives, but I know he has 
some money in the funds. He told me one day that I 
could not expect more than three thousand pounds. You 
know I have sisters.” 

“And before you come into that you’ll have three thou- 
sand children.” 

“That’s a large family. Jack,” replied Gascoigne, 
bursting out into laughter, in which our hero joined. 

“Well, you know I only wanted to argue the point with 
you.” 

“I know that, Jack, but I think we are counting our 
chickens before they are hatched, which is foolish.” 

“In every other case except when we venture upon 
matrimony.” 

“Why, Jack, you’re becoming quite sensible,” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN RASY. 


211 


“My wisdom is for my friends, my folly for myself. 
Good-night.’ ’ 

But Jack did not go to sleep. “I must not allow Gas- 
coigne to do such a foolish thing,” thought he — “marry a 
dark girl on midshipman’s pay, if he succeeds — get his 
throat cut if he does not.” As Jack said, his wisdom was 
for his friends, and he was so generous that he reserved 
none for his own occasions. 

Miss J ulia Hicks, as we before observed, set the fashions 
at Tetuan, and her style of dress was not unbecoming. 
The Moorish women wore large veils, or they may he 
called what you will, for their head-dresses descend to 
their heels at times, and cover the whole body, leaving an 
eye to peep with, and hiding everything else. Now miss 
found this much more convenient than the bonnet, as she 
might walk out in the heat of the sun without burning her 
fair skin, and stare at everybody and everything without 
being stared at in return. She therefore never went out 
without one of these overalls, composed of several yards of 
fine muslin. Her dress in the house was usually of colored 
sarcenet, for a small vessel came into the port one day 
during her father’s lifetime, unloaded a great quantity of 
bales of goods with English marks ; and as the vessel had 
gone out in ballast, there was a surmise on his part by 
what means they came into the captain’s possession. He 
therefore cited the captain up to the governor, but the 
affair was amicably arranged by the vice-consul receiving 
about one-quarter of the cargo in bales of silks and mus- 
lins. Miss Hicks had therefore all her dresses of blue, 
green, and yellow sarcenet, which, with the white muslin 
overall, made her as conspicuous as the only Frankish lady 
in the town had a right to be, and there was not a dog 
which barked in Tetuan which did not know the sister of 
the vice-consul, although few had seen her face. 

Now it occurred to Jack, as Gascoigne was determined 
to carry on his amour, that in case of surprise it would be 
as well if he dressed himself as Miss Hicks. He proposed 
it to Gascoigne the next morning, who approved of the 
idea, and in the course of the day, when Miss Hicks was 
busy with Captain Hogg, he contrived to abstract one of 
her dresses and muslin overalls —which he could do in 
safety, as there were plenty of them, for Miss Hicks was 
not troubled with mantua-^ak^s’ bills. 


m 


kit. midshipman- Hast. 


When Gascoigne went up on the roof the ensuing night, 
he put on the apparel of Miss Hicks, and looked very like 
her as far as figure went, although a little taller. He 
waited for the Moorish girl to sing, but she did not, so he 
crept up the ladder and looked over the wall — when he 
observed that she was reclining, as before, in deep thought. 
His head covered with the muslin caught her eye, and she 
gave a faint scream. 

“Fear not, lady/’ said Gascoigne, “it is not for the first 
time that I have beheld that sweet face. I sigh for a 
companion. What would I not give to be sitting by your 
side? I am not of your creed, ’tis true — but does it there- 
fore follow that we should not love each other?” 

The Moorish girl was about to reply, when Gascoigne 
received an answer from a quarter whence he little expect- 
ed it. It was from the Moor himself, who, hearing his 
daughter scream, had come swiftly up to the roof. 

“Does the Frankish lily wish to mingle her perfumes 
with the dark violet?” said he, for he had often seen the 
sister of the vice-consul, and he imagined it was she who 
had come on the roof and ascended the wall to speak with 
his daughter. 

Gascoigne had presence of mind to avail himself of 
this fortunate mistake. 

'“I am alone, worthy Moor,” replied he, pulling the 
muslin more over his face, “and I pine for a companion. 
I have been charmed by the nightingale on the roof of 
your dwelling; but I thought not to meet the face of a 
man, when I took courage to climb this ladder.” 

“If the Frankish lily will have courage to descend, she 
can sit by the side of the dark violet.” 

Gascoigne thought it advisable to make no reply. 

“Fear not,” said the old Moor; “what is an old man 
but a woman?” and the Moor brought a ladder, which he 
placed against the wall. 

After a pause, Gascoigne said, “It is my fate;” and he 
then descended, and was led by the Moor to the mattress 
upon which his daughter reclined. The Moor then took 
his seat near them, and they entered into conversation. 
Gascoigne knew quite enough of the vice-consul and his 
sister to play his part — and he thought proper to tell the 
Moor that her brother wished to give her as wife to the 
captain of the ship, whom she abhorred, and would take 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


m 


her to a cold and foggy climate; that she had been born 
here, and wished to live and die here, and would prefer 
passing her life in his women’s apartments, to leaving this 
country. At which Abdel Faza, for such was his name, 
felt very amorous; he put his hands to his forehead, 
salaamed, and told Gascoigne that his zenana, and all that 
were in it, were hers, as well as his house and himself. 
After an hour’s conversation, in which Azar, his daughter, 
did not join, the old Moor asked Gascoigne to descend 
into the women’s department — and observing his daugh- 
ter’s silence, said to her: 

“Azar, you are angry that this Frankish houri should 
come to the apartments of which you have hitherto been 
the sole mistress. Fear not, you will soon be another’s, for 
Osman Ali has asked thee for his wife, and I have listened 
to his request.” 

Now Osman Ali was as old as her father, and Azar 
hated him. She offered her hand tremblingly, and led 
Gascoigne into the zenana. The Moor attended them to 
the threshold, bowed, and left them. 

That Gascoigne had time to press his suit, and that he 
did not lose such a golden opportunity, may easily be 
imagined, and her father’s communication relative to 
Osman Ali very much assisted our midshipman’s cause. 

He left the zenana, like most midshipmen in love, that 
is, a little above quicksilver boiling heat. Jack, who had 
remained in a state of some suspense all this time, was 
not sorry to hear voices in an amicable tone, and in a few 
minutes afterward he perceived that Gascoigne was as- 
cending the ladder. It occurred to our hero, that it was, 
perhaps, advisable that he should not be seen, as the 
Moor, in his gallantry, might come up the ladder with 
the supposed lady. He was right, for Abdel Faza not 
only followed her up the ladder on his side, but assisted 
her to descend on the other, and with great ceremony 
took his leave. 

Gascoigne hastened to Jack, who had been peeping, and 
gave him a detail of what had passed, describing Azar as 
the most beautiful, fascinating, and fond creature that 
ever was created. After half an hour’s relation, he 
stopped short, because he discovered that Jack was fast 


The visits of Gascoigne were repeated every night; old 


814 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Abdel Faza became every time more gallant, and onr mid- 
shipman was under the necessity of assuming a virtue if 
he had it not. He pretended to be very modest. 

In the mean time, Captain Hogg continued his atten- 
tions to the real Miss Hicks; the mate proceeded to get 
the bullocks on board, and as more than three weeks had 
already passed away, it was time to think of departing for 
Toulon; but Captain Hogg was too much in love, and as 
for Gascoigne, he intended, like all midshipmen in love, 
to give up the service. Jack reasoned with the captain, 
who appeared to listen to reason, because Miss Hicks had 
agreed to follow his fortunes, and crown his transports 
in the transport Mary Ann. He, therefore, proposed that 
they should get away as fast as they could, and as soon as 
they had weighed the anchor, he would come on shore, 
take off Miss Hicks, and make all sail for Toulon. 

Jack might have suffered this; the difficulty was with 
Gascoigne, who would not hear of going away without his 
lovely Azar. At last Jack planned a scheme which he 
thought would succeed, and which would be a good joke 
to tell the governor. He, therefore, appeared to consent 
to Gascoigne’s carrying off his little Moor, and they can- 
vassed how it was to be managed. Jack then told Gas- 
coigne that he had hit upon a plan, which would succeed, 
“I find,” said he, “from Captain Hogg, that he has an 
intention of carrying off Miss Hicks, and when I sounded 
him as to his having a lady with him, he objected to it 
immediately, saying that he must have all the cabin to 
himself and his intended. Now, in the first place, I have 
no notion of giving up the cabin to Miss Hicks or Mrs. 
Hogg. It will be very uncomfortable to be shut out, be- 
cause he wishes to make love; I, therefore, am determined 
that he shall not take off Miss Hicks. He has proposed 
to me that he shall go on board and get the brig under 
weigh, leaving me with a boat on shore to sign the vouch- 
ers, and that Miss Hicks shall slip into the boat when I 
go off at dusk. Now, I will not bring off Miss Hicks. If 
he wants to marry her, let him do it when I am not on 
board. I have paid for everthing, and I consider the 
cabin as mine. 

“Look you, Ned, if you wish to carry off your little 
Moor there is but one way, and that is a very simple one; 
leave her a dress of Miss Hicks’ when you go there tp- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


215 


morrow night, and tell her to slip down at dusk, and come 
out of the house; all the danger will he in her own house, 
for as soon as she is out, she will be supposed to be the 
yiee-consuFs sister,. and will not be observed or questioned. 
I will look out for and bring her on board instead of Miss 
Hicks. Hogg will have the brig under weigh, and will be 
too happy to make all sail, and she shall lock the cabin in- 
side, so that the mistake shall not be discovered till the 
next morning, and we shall have a good laugh at Captain 
Hogg.” 

Gascoigne pronounced that Jack's scheme was capital, 
and agreed to it, thanking him, and declaring that he was 
the best friend that he ever had. “So I will be,” thought 
Jack, “but you will not acknowledge it at first.” Jack 
then went to Captain Hogg and appeared to enter warmly 
into his views, but told him that Hicks suspected what 
was going on, and had told him so, at the same time de- 
claring that he would not lose sight of his sister until 
after Hogg was on board. 

“Now,” says Jack, 4 "you know you cannot do the thing 
by main force, so the best plan will be for you to go on 
board and get under weigh, leaving me to bring oif Miss 
Hicks, when her brother will imagine all danger will be 
over.” 

“Many thanks, Mr. Easy,” replied Captain Hogg; “it 
will be capital, and 1*11 arrange it all with my Sophy. 
How very kind of you !” 

“But, Hogg, will you promise me secrecy?” 

“Yes,” replied the captain. 

“That Gascoigne is a very silly fellow, and wants to run 
away with a girl he has made acquaintance with here; and 
what do you think he has proposed? That after the ship 
is under weigh, I shall carry her oil in the boat; and 
he has borrowed one of the dresses of Miss Hicks, that it 
may appear to be her. I have agreed to it, but as I am 
determined that he shall not commit such a folly, I shall 
bring oil Miss Hicks instead; and observe, Hogg, he is 
that" sort of wild fellow, that if he was to find that I had 
cheated him he would immediately go on shore and be 
left behind ; therefore we must hand Miss Hicks down in 
the cabin, and she will lock the door all night, so that he 
may not observe the trick till the next morning, and then 
we shall have a fine laugh at him.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


hi 

Captain Hogg replied it would be an excellent joke, 
as Gascoigne did before him. 

Now it must be observed that the water and the bul- 
locks, and the sheep and fowls, were all on board ; and 
Mr. Hicks having received his money from Jack, had 
very much altered his manner; he was barely civil, for as 
he had got all he could out of our hero, he was anxious to 
get rid of him as well as of Capatin Hogg. Our hero was 
very indignant at this, but as it would not suit his present 
views, pretended not to notice it — on the contrary, he 
professed the warmest friendship for the vice-consul, and 
took an opportunity of saying that he could not return his 
kindness in a better way than by informing him of the 
plot which had been arranged. He then told him of the 
intended escape of his sister, and that he was the person 
intended to bring her off. 

“Infamous, by heavens!” cried the vice-consul; “I 
shall writ'e the Foreign Office on the subject.” 

“I think,” said Jack, “it will be much better to do 
what I shall propose, which will end in a hearty laugh, 
and to the confusion of Captain Hogg. Do you dress 
yourself in your sister’s clothes, and I will bring you off 
instead of her. Let him imagine that he has your sister 
secure; I will hand you down into the cabin, and do you 
lock yourself in. He cannot sail without my orders, and 1 
will not sign the vouchers. The next morning we^will 
open the cabin door and have a good laugh at him. De- 
sire your boat to be off at daylight to take you on shore, 
and I will then make him proceed to Toulon forthwith. 
It will be a capital joke.” 

So thought the vice-consul, as well as Gascoigne and 
'Captain Hogg. He shook hands with Jack, and was a& 
civil to him as before. 

That night Gascoigne left one of Miss Hicks 5 many 
dresses with Azar, who agreed to follow his fortunes, and 
who packed up all the jewels and money she could lay her 
hands upon. Poor little child, she trembled with fear 
and delight. Miss Hicks smuggled, as she thought, a box 
of clothes on board, and in the box was her fortune of 
three hundred dollars. Mr. Hicks laughed in his sleeve, 
so did Jack; and every one went to bed, with expectations 
that their wishes would be realized. After an early din- 
ner Captain Hogg and Gascoigne went on board, both 


MR. MID SHIP M Aft HAST. 


squeezing Jack’s hand as if they were never to see him 
again, and looks of intelligence passed between all the 
parties. 

As soon as they were out of the door the vice-consul 
chuckled, and Miss Hicks, who thought he chuckled 
at the idea of having rid himself of Captain Hogg, 
chuckled still more as she looked at our hero, who 
washer confidant; and our hero, for reasons known to 
the reader, chuckled more than either of them. 

A little before dark, the boat was sent on shore from the 
brig, which was now under weigh, and Mr. Hicks, as had 
been agreed, said that he should go into the office and 
prepare the vouchers — that is, put on his sister’s clothes. 
Miss Hicks immediately rose, and wishing our hero a 
pleasant voyage, as had been agreed, said that she should 
retire for the night, as she had a bad headache — she 
wished her brother good-night, and went into her room 
to wait another hour, when our hero, having shoved off 
the boat to deceive the vice-consul, was to return, meet 
her in the garden, and take her off t.o the brig. Our hero 
then went into the office and assisted the vice-consul, who 
took off all his own clothes and tied them up in a hand- 
kerchief, intending to resume them after he had gone into 
the cabin. 

As soon as he was ready, Jack carried his bundle and 
led the supposed Miss Hicks down to the boat. They 
shoved off in a great hurry, and Jack took an oppor- 
tunity of dropping Mr. Hicks’ bundle overboard. As 
soon as they arrived alongside, Mr. Hicks ascended and 
was handed by Jack down into the cabin. He squeezed 
Jack’s hand as he entered, saying in a whisper, “To- 
morrow morning what a laugh we shall have!” and then 
he locked the door. In the mean time the boat was 
hooked on and hoisted up, and Jack took the precaution 
to have the dead lights lowered, that Mr. Hicks might 
not be able to ascertain what was going on. Gascoigne 
came up to our hero and squeezed his hand. 

“I’m so much obliged to you, Jack. I say, to-morrow 
morning what a laugh we shall have!” 

As soon as the boat was up, and the main-yard filled, 
Captain Hogg also came up to our hero, shaking him by 
the hand and thanking him; and he too concluded by 
saying, “I say, Mr. Easy, to-morrow morning what a 
laugh we shall havel” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


m 


“Let those laugh who win/’ thought Jack. 

The wind was fair, the watch was set, the course was 
steered, and all went down to their hammocks, and went 
to sleep, waiting for to-morrow morning. Mr. Hicks, 
also, haying nothing better to do, went to sleep, and by 
the morning dawn, the transport Mary Ann was more 
than a hundred miles from the African shore. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

OUR HERO PLAYS THE VERY DEVIL. 

We must leave the reader to imagine the effect of the 
next morning’s denouement. Every one was in a fury ex- 
cept Jack, who did nothing but laugh. The captain 
wanted to return to obtain Miss Hicks, Gascoigne to ob- 
tain Azar, and the vice-consul to obtain his liberty — but 
the wind was foul for their return, and Jack soon gained 
the captain on his side. He pointed out to him that, in 
the first place, if he presumed to return, he would forfeit 
his charter bond; in the second, he would have to pay 
for all the bullocks which died; in the third, that if he 
wished to take Miss Hicks as his wife, he must not first 
injure her character by having her on board hefore the 
solemnity; and lastly, that he could always go and marry 
her whenever he pleased; the brother could not prevent 
him. All this was very good advice, and the captain 
became quite calm and rational, and set his studding-sails 
below and aloft. 

As for Gascoigne, it was no use reasoning with him, so 
it was agreed that he should have satisfaction as soon as 
they could get on shore again. Mr. Hicks was the most 
violent; he insisted that the vessel should return, while 
both Jack and the captain refused, although he threatened 
them with the whole Foreign Office. He insisted upon, 
having his clothes; but Jack replied that they had tum- 
bled overboard as they pulled from the shore. He then 
commanded the mate and men to take the vessel back, 
but they laughed at him and his woman’s clothes. “At 
all events, I’ll have you turned out of the service,” said 
he to our hero in his fury. “I shall be extremely obliged 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


219 


to yon,” said Jack; and Captain Hogg was so much 
amused with the vice-consul's appearance in his sister’s 
clothes that he quite forgot his own disappointment in 
laughing at his intended brother-in-law. He made 
friends again with Jack, who regained his ascendency, 
and ordered out the porter on the capstern-head. They 
had an excellent dinner; but Mr. Hicks refused to join 
them, which, however, did not spoil the appetite of Jack 
or the captain. As for Gascoigne, he could not eat a 
mouthful, but he drank to excess, looking over the rim of 
his tumbler as if he could devour our hero, who only 
laughed the more. Mr. Hicks had applied to the men to 
lend him some clothes, but Jack had foreseen that, and 
he was omnipotent. There was not a jacket or a pair of 
trousers to be had for love or money. Mr. Hicks then 
considered it advisable to lower his tone, and he applied 
to Captain Hogg, who begged to be excused without he 
consented to his marriage with his sister, to which Mr. 
Hicks gave an indignant negative. He then applied to 
Gascoigne, who told him in a very surly tone to go to 
h — 11. At last he applied to our hero, who laughed, and 

said that he would see him d d first. So Mr. Hicks 

sat down in his petticoats, and vowed revenge. Gascoigne, 
who had drunk much and eaten nothing, turned in and 
went to sleep, while Captain Hogg and our hero drank 
porter on the capstern. Thus passed the first day and the 
wind was famously fair — the bullocks lowed, the cocks 
crew, the sheep baa’d, and the Mary Ann made upward 
of two hundred miles. Jack took possession of the other 
berth in the cabin, and his majesty’s representative was 
obliged to lie down in his petticoats upon a topsail which 
lay between decks, with a bullock on each side of him, 
who every now and then made a dart at him with their 
horns, as if they knew that it was to him that they were 
indebted for their embarkation, and being destined to 
drive the scurvy out of the Toulon fleet. 

- We cannot enter into the details of the passage, which, 
as the wind was fair, was accomplished in ten days with- 
out the loss of a bullock. During this time Mr. Hicks 
condescended to eat without speaking, imagining that the 
hour of retribution would come, when they joined the 
admiral. Gascoigne gradually recovered himself, but 
did not speak to our hero, who continued to laugh and 


m 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


drink porter. On the eleventh morning they were in th& 
midst of the Toulon fleet, and Mr. Hicks smiled exult- 
ingly as he passed our hero in his petticoats, and won- 
dered that Jack showed no signs of trepidation. 

The fleet hove-to; Jack ran under the admiral’s stern, 
lowered down his boat and went on board, showed his 
credentials, and reported his bullocks. The general sig- 
nal was made; there was a fair division of the spoil, and 
then the admiral asked our hero whether the master of 
the transport had any other stock on board. Jack replied 
that he had not; but that having been told by the Gov- 
ernor of Malta that they might be acceptable, he had 
bought a few sheep and some dozen of fowls, which were 
much at his service, if he would accept of them. The 
admiral was much obliged to the governor and also to 
Jack for thinking of him, but would not, of course, accept 
of the stock without paying for them. He requested him 
to send all of them on board that he could spare, and then 
asked Jack to dine with him, for Jack had put on his best 
attire, and looked very much of a gentleman. 

“Mr. Easy,” said the flag-captain, who had been look- 
ing at the transport with his glass, “is that the master’s 
wife on board?” 

“No, sir,” replied Jack; “it’s the vice-consul!” 

“What, in petticoats! the vice-consul?” 

“Yes; the vice-consul of Tetuan. He came on board 
in that dress when the brig was under weigh, and I con- 
sidered it my duty not to delay, being aware how very im- 
portant it was that the fleet should be provided with fresh 
beef.” 

“What is all this, Mr. Easy?” said the admiral; “there 
has been some trick here. You will will oblige me by 
coming into the cabin.” 

Easy followed the admiral and flag-captain into the 
cabin, and then boldly told the whole story of how he 
tricked them all. It was impossible for either of them to 
help laughing, and when they began to laugh it was al- 
most as impossible to stop. 

“Mr. Easy,” said the admiral at last, “I do not alto- 
gether blame you; it appears that the captain of the 
transport would have delayed sailing because he was in 
love, and that Mr. Gascoigne would have staved behind 
because he was infatuated j independent of the ill-will 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST, 


221 


against the English which would have been excited by the 
abduction of the girl. But I think you might have con- 
trived to manage all that without putting the vice-consul 
in petticoats.” 

“ I acted to the best of my judgment, sir,” replied Jack 
very humbly. 

“And altogether you have done well. Captain Mal- 
colm, send a boat for the vice-consul.” 

Mr. Hicks was too impatient to tell his wrongs to care 
for his being in his sister’s clothes; he came on board, and 
although the tittering was great, he imagined that it would 
soon be all in his favor, when it was known that he was a 
diplomat. He toldjj his story and waited for the decision 
of the admiral, which was to crush our hero, who stood with 
the midshipmen on the lee-side of the deck; but the ad- 
miral replied, “Mr. Hicks, in the first place, this appears 
to me to be a family affair concerning the marriage of your 
sister, with which I have nothing to do. You went on 
board of your own free will in woman’s clothes. Mr. 
Easy’s orders were positive, and he obeyed them. It was 
his duty to sail as soon as the transport was ready. You 
may forward your complaint if you please, but, as a friend, 
I tell you that it will probably occasion your dismissal, for 
these kinds of pranks are not understood at the Foreign 
Office. You may return to the transport, which, after 
she has touched at Mahon, will proceed again to Tetuan. 
The boat is alongside, sir.” 

Mr. Hicks, astonished at the want of respect paid to a 
vice-consul, shoved his petticoats between his legs and 
went down the side amid the laughter of the whole of the 
ship’s company. Our hero dined with the admiral, and 
was well received. He got his orders to sail that night 
for Minorca, and as soon as dinner was over he returned 
on board, when he found Captain Hogg very busy selling 
his porter — Gascoigne walking the deck in a brown-study 
— and Mr. Hicks solus abaft, sulking in his petticoats. 

As soon as they were clear of the boats, the Mary Ann 
hoisted her ensign and made sail, and as all the porter 
was not yet sold, Jack ordered up a bottle. 

Jack was much pleased with the result of his explana- 
tion with the admiral, and he felt that, for once, he had 
not only got into no scrape himself, but that he had pre- 
vented others. Gascoigne walked the deck gloomily; the 


222 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


fact was, that he was very unhappy; he had had time to 
reflect, and now that the first violence had subsided, he 
felt that our hero had done him a real service, and had 
prevented him from committing an act of egregious folly ; 
and yet he had summoned this friend to meet him in the 
field — and such had been his gratitude. He would have 
given the world to recall what had passed and to make 
friends, but he felt ashamed, as most people do, -to ac- 
knowledge his error; he had, however, almost made up 
his mind to it, and was walking up and down thinking in 
what manner he might contrive it, when Jack, who was 
sitting, as usual, in a chair by the capstern, with his 
porter by him, said to himself, “Now, I J 11 lay my life 
that Ned wants to make friends, and is ashamed to speak 
first; I may be mistaken, and he may fly off at a tangent; 
but even if I am, at all events, it will not be I who am 
wrong — I’ll try him.” Jack waited till Gascoigne passed 
him again, and then said, looking kindly and knowingly 
in his face: 

“I say, Ned, will you have a glass of porter?” 

Gascoigne smiled, and Jack held out his hand; the rec- 
onciliation was effected in a moment, and the subject of 
quarrel was not canvassed by either party. 

“We shall be at Minorca in a day or two,” observed 
Jack, after awhile; “now I shall be glad to get there. 
Do you know, Ned, that I feel very much satisfied with 
myself; I have got into no scrape this time, and I shall, 
notwithstanding, have a good story to tell the governor 
when I go to Malta.” 

' “Partly at my expense,” replied Gascoigne. 

“Why, you will figure a little in it, but others will 
figure much more.” 

“I wonder what has become of that poor girl,” observed 
Gascoigne, who could not refrain from mentioning her; 
“what hurts me most is, that she must think me such a 
brute.” 

“No doubt of that, Ned — take another glass of porter.” 

“Her father gave me this large diamond.” 

“The old goat — sell it, and drink his health with it.” 

“No, I’ll keep it in memory of his daughter.” 

Here Gascoigne fell into a melancholy reverie, and Jack 
thought of Agnes. 

In two days they arrived at Mahon, and found the* 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


223 


Aurora already there, in the command of Captain Wilson. 
Mr. Hicks had persuaded Captain Hogg to furnish him. 
with clothes, Jack having taken off the injunction as soon 
as he had quitted the admiral. Mr. Hicks was aware 
that if the admiral would not listen to his complaint, it 
was no use speaking to a captain. So he remained on 
board a pensioner upon Captain Hogg, and after our mid- 
shipmen quitted the transport they became very good 
friends. Mr. Hicks consented to the match, and Captain 
Hogg was made happy. As for poor Azar, she had wan- 
dered about until she was tired, in Miss Hicks’ dress, and 
at last returned broken-hearted to her father’s and was ad- 
mitted by Abdel Faza himself; he imagined it was Miss 
Hicks, and was in transports — he discovered it was his 
daughter, and he was in a fury. The next day she went 
to the zenana of Osman Ali. 

When Jack reported himself, he did not tell the history 
of the elopements, that he might not hurt the feelings of 
Gascoigne. Captain Wilson was satisfied with the manner 
in which he had executed his orders, and asked him 
“whether he preferred staying in the Harpy, or following 
him into the Aurora.” 

Jack hesitated. 

“Speak frankly, Mr. Easy; if you prefer Captain Saw- 
bridge to me, I shall not be affronted.” 

“So, sir,” replied Easy, “I do not prefer Captain Saw- 
bridge to you ; you have both been equally kind to me, 
but I prefer you. But the fact is, sir, that I do not much 
like to part with Gascoigne, or ” 

“Or who?” said the captain, smiling. 

“With Metsy, sir, you may think me very foolish — but 
I should not be alive at this moment if it had not been 
for him.” 

“I do not consider gratitude to be foolish, Mr. Easy,” 
replied Captain Wilson. “Mr. Gascoigne I intend to 
take with me, if he chooses to come, as I have a great re- 
spect for his father, and no fault to find with him, that 
is, generally speaking — but as for Mesty — why, he is a 
good man, and as you have behaved yourself very well, 
perhaps I may think of it.” 

The next day Mesty was included among the boat’s 
crew taken with him by Captain Wilson, according to the 
regulations of the service, and appointed to the same sit- 


224 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST \ 


nation under the master-at-arms of the Aurora. Gas- 
coigne and our hero were also discharged into the frigate. 

As our hero never has shown any remarkable predilec- 
tion for duty, the reader will not be surprised at his re- 
questing from Captain Wilson a few days on shore, pre- 
vious to his going on board of the Aurora. Captain 
Wilson allowed the same license to Gascoigne, as they 
had both been cooped up for some time on board of a 
transport. Our hero took up his quarters at the only re- 
spectable hotel in the town, and whenever he could meet 
an officer of the Aurora, he very politely begged the 
pleasure of his company to dinner. Jack’s reputation 
had gone before him, and the midshipmen drank his wine 
and swore he was a trump. Not that Jack was to be 
deceived, but upon the principles of equality, he argued 
that it was the duty of those who could afford dinners to 
give them to those who could not. This was a sad error 
on Jack’s part, but he had not yet learned the value of 
money ; he was such a fool as to think that the only real 
use of it was to make other people happy. It must, how- 
ever, be offered in his extenuation that he was a midship- 
man and a philosopher, and not yet eighteen. 

At last Jack had remained so long on shore, keeping 
open house, and the first lieutenant of the Aurora found 
the officers so much more anxious for leave, now that they 
were at little or no expense, that he sent him a very 
polite message, requesting the pleasure of his company on 
board that evening. Jack returned an equally polite an- 
swer, informing the first lieutenant that not being aware 
that he wished to see him, he had promised to accompany 
some friends to a masquerade that night, but that he 
would not fail to pay his respects to him the next day. 
The first lieutenant admitted the excuse, and our hero, 
after having entertained half a dozen of the Auroras, for 
the Harpy had sailed two days before, dressed himself for 
the masquerade, which was held in a church about two 
and a half miles from Mahon. 

Jack had selected the costume of the devil , as being the 
most appropriate, and mounting a jackass, he rode down 
in his dress to the masquerade. But, as Jack was just 
going in, he perceived a yellow carriage, with two foot- 
men in gaudy liveries, draw up, and, with his usual polite- 
ness, wheu the footmen opened the door, offered his arm 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


225 


to hand out a fat old dowager covered with diamonds; the 
lady looked up, and perceiving Jack covered with hair, 
with his trident and his horns, and long tail, gave a loud 
scream, and would have fallen, had it not been for Cap- 
tain Wilson, who, in his full uniform, was coming in and 
caught her in his arms. While the old lady thanked him 
and Captain Wilson bowed, Jack hastily retreated. “I 
shall make no conquests to-night,” thought he, so he en- 
tered the church, and joined the crowd; but it was so 
dense that it was hardly possible to move, and our hero 
soon got tired of flourishing his trident, and sticking it 
into people, who wondered what the devil he meant. 

“This is stupid work,” thought Jack, “I may have 
more fun outside;” so Jack put on his cloak, left the 
masquerade, and went out in search of adventures. He 
walked into the open country, about half a mile, until he 
came to a splendid house, standing in a garden of orange- 
trees, which he determined to reconnoiter. He observed 
that a window was open and lights were in the room; 
and he climbed up to the window, and just opened the 
white curtain and looked in. On a bed lay an elderly 
person, evidently dying, and by the side of the bed were 
three priests, one of whom held the crucifix in his hand, 
another the censer, and a third was sitting at a table 
with a paper, pen, and ink. As Jack understood Spanish 
he listened, and heard one of the priests say: 

“Your sins have been enormous, my son, and I cannot 
give you extreme unction or absolution unless you make 
some amends.” 

“I have,” answered the moribund, “left money for ten 
thousand masses to be said for my soul.” 

“Five hundred thousand masses are not sufficient. 
How have you gained your enormous wealth? by usury 
and robbing the poor.” 

“I have left a thousand dollars to be distributed among 
the poor on the day of my funeral.” 

“One thousand dollars is nothing — you must leave all 
your property to Holy Church.” 

“And my children!” replied the dying man faintly. 

“What are your children compared to your salvation? 
Reply not: either consent, or not only do I refuse you the 
consolation of the dying, but I excommunicate ” 

“Mercy, holy father— mercy !” said the old man, in a 
dying voice. 


226 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


‘‘There is no mercy, yon are damned forever and ever. 
Amen. Now hear: excommunicabo te — — ” 

“Stop — stop— have you the paper ready?” 

“ ’Tis here, all ready, by which you revoke all former 
wills, and endow the Holy Church with your property. 
We will read it, for God forbid that it should be said that 
the Holy Church received an involuntary gift.” 

“I will sign it,” replied the dying man; “but my sight 
fails me; be quick, absolve me.” 

And the paper was signed with difficulty, as the priests 
supported the dying man. “And now — absolve me.” 

“I do absolve thee,” replied the priest, who then went 
through the ceremony. 

“Now this is a confounded rascally business,” said Jack 
to himself; who then dropped his cloak, jumped upon 
the window-sill, opened wide the window-curtains with 
both hands, and uttered a yelling kind of “Ha, ha, ha, 
ha!” 

The priests turned round, saw the demon, as they 
imagined — dropped the paper on the table, and threw 
themselves with their faces on the floor. 

“ Exorciso te ,” stammered one. 

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” repeated Jack, entering the room 
and taking up the paper, which he burned by the flame of 
the candle. Our hero looked at the old man on the bed ; 
his jaw had fallen, his eyes were turned. He was dead. 
Jack then gave one more “Ha, ha, ha, ha!” to keep the 
priests in their places, blew out the candles, made a 
spring out of the window, caught up his cloak, and dis- 
appeared as fast as his legs could carry him. 

Jack ran until he was out of breath, and then he stopped, 
and sat down by the side of the road. It was broad 
moonlight, and Jack knew not where he was; “but Mi- 
norca has not many high-roads,” thought Jack, “and I 
shall find my way home. Now, let me see, I have done 
some good this evening. I have prevented those rogues 
from disinheriting a family. I wonder who they are; 
they ought to be infinitely obliged to me. But if the 
priests find me out, what shall I do? I never dare come 
on shore again — they’d have me in the Inquisition. I 
wonder where I am,” said Jack; “I will get on that hill, 
and see if I can take a departure.” 

. The hill was formed by the road being cut perpei*- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 

dicularly almost through it, and was perhaps some twelve 
or fourteen feet high. Jack ascended it, and looked 
about him. “There is the sea, at all events, with the full 
moon silvering the waves,” said Jack, turning from the 
road, “and here is the road; then that must be the way 
to Port Mahon. But what comes here? it’s a carriage. 
Why, it’s the yellow carriage of that old lady with her 
diamonds and her two splashy footmen!” Jack was 
watching it as it passed the road under him, when of a 
sudden he perceived about a dozen men rush out, and 
seize the horses’ heads — a discharge of firearms, the coach- 
man dropped off the box, and the two footmen dropped 
from behind. The robbers then opened the door and 
were hauling out the fat old lady covered with diamonds. 
Jack thought a second — it occurred to him that, although 
he could not cope with so many, he might frighten them 
as he had frightened one set of robbers already that night. 
The old lady had just been tumbled out of the carriage- 
door, like a large bundle of clothes tied up for the wash, 
when Jack, throwing off his cloak, and advancing to the 
edge of the precipice, with the full moon behind him 
throwing out his figure in strong relief, raised his trident 
and, just as they were raising their knives, yelled a most 
unearthly “Ha," ha, ha, ha!” The robbers looked up, 
and forgetting the masquerade, for there is a double 
tremor in guilt, screamed with fear; most of them ran 
away, and dropped after a hundred yards, others remained 
paralyzed and insensible. Jack then descended the hill, 
went to the assistance of the old lady, who had swooned, 
and had to put her into the carriage; but although our 
hero was very strong, this was a work of no small diffi- 
culty. After one or two attempts, he lowered down the 
steps, and contrived to bump her on the first, from the 
first he purchased her on to the second, and from the 
second he at last seated her at the door of the carriage. 
Jack had no time to be over-polite; he then drew her 
back into the bottom of the carriage ; her heels went up 
to the top; Jack shoved in her petticoats as fast as he 
could, for decency, and then shutting the door, seized the 
reins, and jumped upon the box. “I don’t know the 
way,” thought Jack, “but we must needs go when the 
devil drives so sticking his trident into the horses, they 
set off at a rattling pace, passing over the bodies of the 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


two robbers who had held the reins, and who both lay be- 
fore him in a swoon. As soon as he had brought the 
horses into a trot, he slackened the reins, for, as Jack 
wisely argued, “they will be certain to go home if I let 
them have their own way.” The horses, before they 
arrived at the town, turned off, and stopped at a large 
country-house. That he might not frighten the people, 
Jack had put on his cloak, and taken off his mask and 
head-piece, which he had laid beside him on the box. At 
the sound of the carriage-wheels the servants came out, 
when Jack, in few words, told them what had happened. 
Some of the servants ran in, and a young lady made her 
appearance, while the others were helping the old lady 
out of the carriage, who had recovered her senses, but had. 
been so much frightened that she had remained in the 
posture in which Jack had put her. 

As soon as she was out, Jack descended from the coach- 
box and entered the house. He stated to the young lady 
what had taken place, and how opportunely he had fright- 
ened away the robbers, just as they were about to murder 
her relation; and also suggested the propriety of sending 
after the servants who had fallen in the attack, which was 
immediately done by a strong and well-armed party, col- 
lected for the occasion. Jack having made his speech, 
made a very polite bow and took his leave, stating that he 
was an English officer, belonging to a frigate in the har- 
bor. He knew his way back, and in half an hour was 
again at the inn, and found his comrades. Jack thought 
it advisable to keep his own secret, and therefore merely 
said that he had taken a long walk in the country, and 
soon afterward went to bed. 

The next morning our hero, who was always a man of 
his word, packed up his portmanteau, and paid his bill. 
He had just completed this heavy operation, when some- 
body wanted to speak to him, and a sort of half-clerical, 
half-legal sort of looking gentleman was introduced, who, 
with a starched face and prim air, said that he came to 
request in writing the name of the officer who was dressed 
as a devil, in the masquerade of the night before. 

Jack looked at his interrogator, and thought of the 
priests and the Inquisition. “No, no,” thought he, 
“that won’t do; a name I must give, but It shall be one 
that you dare not meddle with. A midshipman you might 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST, 


m 

get hold of, but it’s more than the whole island dare to 
touch a post-captain of one of his majesty’s frigates.” So 
Jack took the paper and wrote Captain Henry Wilson, ot 
his majesty’s ship Aurora. 

The prim man made a prim bow, folded up the paper, 
and left the room. 

Jack threw the waiter half a doubloon, lighted his cigar, 
land went on board. 


CHAPTER XXV 

IX WHICH THE OLD PROVERB IS ILLUSTRATED, THAT 
“YOU MUST XOT COUXTYOUK CHICKEXS BEFORE THEY 
ARE HATCHED.” 

The first lieutenant of the Aurora was a very good offi- 
cer in many respects, but, as a midshipman, he had con- 
tracted the habit of putting his hands in his pockets and 
could never keep them out, even when the ship was in a 
gale of wind; and hands are of some use in a heavy lurch. 
He had more than once received serious injury from fall- 
ing on these occasions, but habit was too powerful; and, 
although he had once broken his leg by falling down the 
hatchway, and had moreover a large scar on his forehead, 
received from being thrown to leeward against one of the 
guns, he still continued the practice ; indeed, it was said 
that once, when it was necessary for him to go aloft, he 
had actually taken the two first rounds of the Jacob’s lad- 
der without withdrawing them, until, losing his balance, 
he discovered that it was not quite so easy to go aloft with 
his hands in his pockets. In fact, there was no getting 
up his hands, even when all hands were turned up. He 
had another peculiarity, which was, that he had taken a 
peculiar fancy to a quack medicine, called Enouy’s Uni- 
versal Medicine for all Mankind; and Mr. Pottyfar was 
convinced in his own mind that the label was no libel, 
except from the greatness of its truth. In his opinion, 
it cured everything, and he spent one of his quarterly bills 
every year in bottles of this stuff; which he not only took 
himself every time he was unwell, but ocasionally when 


230 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


quite well, to prevent his falling sick. He recommended 
it to everybody in the ship, and nothing pleased him so 
much as to give a dose of it to every one who could be 
persuaded to take it. The officers laughed at him, but it 
was generally behind his back, for he became very angry 
if contradicted upon this one point, upon which he cer- 
tainly might be considered to be a little cracked. He was 
indefatigable in making proselytes to his creed, and ex- ; 
patiated upon the virtues of the medicine for an hour run- 
ning, proving the truth of his assertions by a pamphlet, 
which, Avith his hands, he always carried in his trousers 
pockets. 

Jack reported himself when he came on board, and Mr. 
Pottyfar, who Avas on the quarter-deck at the time, ex- 
pressed a hope that Mr. Easy would take his share of the 
duty, now that he had had such a spell on shore; to which 
Jack very graciously acceded, and then went down below, 
where he found Gascoigne and his new messmates, with 
most of whom he was already acquainted. 

“Well, Easy,” said Gascoigne, “have you had enough 
of the shore?” 

“Quite,” replied Jack, recollecting that after the 
events of the night before he was just as well on board; 
“I don’t intend to ask for any more leave.” 

“Perhaps it’s quite as well, for Mr. Pottyfar is not very 
liberal on that score, I can tell you; there is but one way 
of getting leave from him.” 

“Indeed,” replied Jack; “and what is that?” 

“You must pretend that you are not well, take some of 
his quack medicine, and then he will allow you a run on 
shore to Avork it otf.” 

“Oh! that’s it, is it? well, then, as soon as Ave anchor in 
Yalette, I’ll go through a regular course, but not till 
then.” 

“It ought to suit you, Jack; it’s an equality medicine; 
cures one disorder just as well as the other.” 

“Or kills — which levels all the patients. You’re right, 
Gascoigne, I must patronize that stuff — for more reasons 
than one. Who Avas that person on deck in mufti?” 

“The mufti, Jack? In other words, the chaplain of 
the ship; but he’s a prime sailor, nevertheless.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Why, he was brought up on the quarter-deck, served 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN RASY. 


m 


his time, was acting lieutenant for two years, and then, 
somehow or another, he bore up for the Church. ” 

“Indeed — what were his reasons?’’ 

“No one knows — but they say he has been unhappy 
ever since/’ 

“Why so?” 

“Because he did a very foolish thing, which cannot now 
be remedied. He supposed at the time that he would 
make a good parsoh, and now that he has long got over 
his fit, he finds himself wholly unfit for it — he is still the 
officer in heart, and is always struggling with his natural 
bent, which is very contrary to what a parson should feel.” 

“Why don’t they allow parsons to be broke by a court- 
martial, and turned out of the service, or to resign their 
commissions, like other people?” 

“It won’t do, Jack — they serve Heaven — there’s a 
difference between that and serving his majesty.” 

“Well, I don’t understand these things. When do we 
sail?” 

“The day after to-morrow.” 

“To join the fleet off Toulon?” 

“Yes; but I suppose we shall be driven on the Spanish 
coast going there. I never knew a man-of-war that was 
not.” 

“No; wind always blows from the south, going up the 
Mediterranean.” 

“Perhaps you’ll take another prize, Jack — mind you 
don’t go away without the articles of war.” 

“I won’t go away without Mesty, if lean help it. Oh, 
dear, how abominable a midshipman’s berth is after a 
long run on shore. I positively must go on deck and 
look at the shore, if I can do nothing else.” 

“Why, ten minutes ago you had had enough of it!” 

“Yes, but ten minutes here has made me feel quite 
sick. I shall go to the first lieutenant for a dose.” 

“I say, Easy, we must both be physicked on the same 
day.” 

“To be sure; but stop till we get to Malta.” 

Jack went on deck, made acquaintance with the chap- 
lain and some of the officers whom he had not known, then 
climbed up into the maintop, where he took a seat on the 
armolest, and, as he looked at the shore, thought over the 
events that had passed, until Agnes came to his memory, 


m 


Mu. midshipman east. 


and he thought only of her. When a mid is in love, he 
always goes aloft to think of the object of his affection; 
why, I don’t know, except that his reverie is not so likely 
to be disturbed by an order from a superior officer. 

The Aurora sailed on the second day, and with a fine 
breeze stood across, making as much northing as easting; 
the consequence was, that one fine morning they saw the 
Spanish coast before they saw the Toulon fleet. Mr. 
Pottvfar took his hands out of his pockets, because he 
cculd not examine the coast through a telescope without 
so doing; but this, it is said, was the first time that he 
had done so on the quarter-deck from the day that the 
ship had sailed from Port Mahon. Captain Wilson was 
also occupied with his telescope, so were many of the offi- 
cers and midshipmen, and the men at the mast-heads used 
their eyes, but there was nothing but a few small fishing- 
boats to be seen. So they all went down to breakfast, as 
the ship was hove-to close in with the land. 

“What will Easy bet,” said one of the midshipmen, 
“that we don’t see a prize to-day?” 

“I will not bet that we do not see a vessel; but I’ll bet 
you what you please that we do not take one before twelve 
o’clock at night.” 

“No, no, that won’t do; just let the tea-pot travel over 
this way, for it’s my forenoon watch.” 

“It’s a fine morning,” observed one of the mates, of the 
name of Martin; “but I’ve a notion it won’t be a fine 
evening.” 

“Why not?” inquired another. 

“I’ve now been eight years in the Mediterranean, and 
know something about the weather. There’s a watery 
sky, and the wind is very steady. If we are not under 
double-reefed topsails to-night, say I’m no conjurer.” 

“That you will be, all the same, if we are under bare 
poles,” said another. 

“You’re devilish free with your tongue, my youngster. 
Easy, pull his ears for me.” 

“Pull them easy, Jack, then,” said the boy, laughing. 

“All hands make sail!” now resounded at the hatch- 
ways. 

“There they are, depend upon it,” cried Gascoigne, 
catching up his hat and bolting out of the berth, followed 
by all the others except Martin, who had just been re- 


Mil MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 


lieved, and thought that his presence in the waist might 
be dispensed with for the short time, at least, which it 
took him to swallow a cup of tea. 

It was very true; a galliot and four lateen vessels had 
just made their appearance round the easternmost point, 
and, as soon as they observed the frigate, had hauled their 
wind. In a minute the Aurora was under a press of can- 
i, vas, and the telescopes were all directed to the vessels. 
i “All deeply laden, sir,” observed Mr. Hawkins, the 
chaplain; “how the topsail of the galliot is scored!” 

“They have a fresh breeze just now,” observed Captain 
Wilson to the first lieutenant. 

“Yes, sir; and it’s coming down fast.” 

“Hands by the royal halyards, there!” 

The Aurora careened with the canvas to the rapidly 
increasing breeze. 

“Topgallant-sheet and halyards!” 

“Luff you may, quartermaster! luff, I tell you! A 
small pull of that weather main-topgallant brace; that 
will do!” said the master. 

“Top-men, aloft there ! Stand by to clew up the royals ! 
and, Captain Wilson, shall we take them in? I’m afraid 
of that pole; it bends now like a coach-whip,” said Mr. 

* Pottyfar, looking up aloft, with his hands in both pockets. 

“In royals — lower away!” 

“They are going about, sir,” said the second lieutenant, 
Mr. Haswell. 

“Look out!” observed the chaplain; “it’s coming.” 

Again the breeze increases, and the frigate was borne 
down. 

“Hands reef topsails in stays, Mr. Pottyfar.” 

“Ay, ay, sir; 'bout ship.” 

The helm was put down, and the topsails lowered and 
reefed in stays. 

“Very well, my lads, very well indeed,” said Captain 
Wilson. 

Again the topsails were hoisted and topgallant-sheets 
home. It was a strong breeze, although the water was 
smooth and the Aurora dashed through at the rate of 
eight miles an hour, with her weather leeches lifting. 

“Didn’t I tell you so?” said Martin to his messmates 
on the gangway; “but there’s more yet, my boys.” 

“We must take the topgallant-sails off her,” said Cap- 


234 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


tain Wilson, looking aloft; for the frigate now careened 
to her bearings, and the wind was increasing and squally. 
“Try them a little longer ;” but another squall came sud- 
denly: the halyards were lowered, and the sails clewed 
up and furled. 

In the mean time the frigate had rapidly gained upon 
the vessels, which still carried on every stitch of canavs, 
making short tacks in shore. The Aurora was again put 
about with her head toward them, and they were not two 
points on her weather-how. The sky, which had been 
clear in the morning, was now overcast; the sun was ob- 
scured with opaque white clouds, and the sea was rising 
fast. Another ten minutes, and then they were under 
double-reefed topsails, and the squalls were accompanied 
with heavy rain. The frigate now dashed through the 
waves, foaming in her course, and straining under the 
press of sail. The horizon was so thick that the vessels 
ahead were no longer to be seen. 

“We shall have it, I expect/’ said Captain Wilson. 

“Didn’t I say so?” observed Martin to Gascoigne. 
“We take no prizes this day, depend upon it.” 

“We must have another hand to the wheel, sir, if you 
please,” said the quartermaster, who was assisting the 
helmsman. 

Mr. Pottyfar, with his hands concealed as usual, stood 
by the capstern. “I fear, sir, we cannot carry the main- 
sail much longer.” 

“No,” observed the chaplain, “I was thinking so.” 

“Captain Wilson, if you please, we are very close in,” 
said the master; “don’t you think we had better go 
about?” 

“Yes, Mr. Jones. Hands about ship — and yes, by 
heavens, we must! up mainsail.” 

The mainsail was taken off, and the frigate appeared to 
be immediately relieved. She no longer jerked and 
plunged as before. 

“We’re very near the land, Captain Wilson; thick as it 
is, I think I can make out the loom of it — shall we wear 
round, sir?” continued the master. 

“Yes, hands, wear ship — put the helm up.” 

It was but just in time, for, as the frigate flew round, 
describing a circle, as she payed off before the wind, they 
could perceive the breakers lashing the precipitous coast, 
not two cables’ length from them. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


235 


. “I had no idea we were so near/’ observed the captain, 
compressing his lips. “Can they see anything of those 
vesvsels?” 

“I have not seen them this quarter of an hour, sir,” 
replied the signal-man, protecting his glass from the rain 
under his jacket. 

“How’s her head now, quartermaster?” 

“South-southeast, sir.” 

The sky now assumed a different appearance — the white 
clouds had been exchanged for others dark and murky, the 
wind roared at intervals, and the rain came down in tor- 
rents. Captain Wilson went down into the cabin to ex- 
amine the barometer. 

“The barometer has risen,” said he on his return on 
deck. “Is the wind steady?” 

“No, sir, she’s up and off three points.” 

“This will end in a southwester.” 

The wet and heavy sails now flapped from the shifting 
of the wind. 

“Up with the helm, quartermaster.” 

“Up it is — she’s off to south-by-west.” 

The wind lulled, the rain came down in a deluge — for 
a minute it was quite calm, and the frigate was on an 
even keel. 

“Man the braces. We shall be taken aback directly, 
depend upon it.” 

The braces were hardly stretched along before this was 
the case. The wind flew round to the southwest with a 
loud roar, and it was fortunate that they were prepared — - 
the yards were braced round, and the master asked the 
captain what course they were to steer. 

4 4 We must give it up,” observed Captain Wilson, hold- 
ing on by the belaying pin. “Shape our course for Cape 
Sicie, Mr. Jones.” 

And the Aurora flew before the gale, under her fore- 
sail and top-sails close reefed. The weather was now so 
thick that nothing could be observed twenty yards from 
the vessel; the thunder pealed, and the lightning darted 
in every direction over the dark expanse. The watch was 
called as soon as the sails were trimmed and all who could 
went below, wet, uncomfortable, and disappointed. 

“What an old Jonah you are, Martin,” said Gascoigne. 
“Yes I am,” replied he; “but we have the worst to come 


236 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


yet, in my opinion. I recollect not two hundred miles 
from where we are now we had just such a gale in the 
Favorite, and we as nearly went down when ” 

At this moment a tremendous noise was heard above, a 
shock was felt throughout the whole ship, which trembled 
fore and aft as if it was about to fall into pieces; loud 
shrieks were followed by plaintive cries; the lower deck/ 
was filled with smoke and the frigate was down on her 
beam ends. Without exchanging a word, the whole of 
the occupants of the berth flew out, and were up the 
hatchway, not knowing what to think, but convinced that 
some dreadful accident had taken place. 

On their gaining the deck it was at once explained; the 
foremast of the frigate had been struck by lightning, had 
been riven into several pieces, and had fallen over the lar- 
board bow, carrying with it the main-topmast and jib-boom. 
The jagged stump of the foremast was in flames and 
burned brightly, notwithstanding the rain fell in torrents. 
The ship, as soon as the foremast and main-topmast had 
gone overboard, broached-to furiously, throwing the men 
over the wheel and dashing them senseless against the 
carronades; the forecastle, the fore part of the main-deck, 
and even the lower deck, were spread with men either 
killed or seriously wounded, or insensible from the electric 
shock. The frigate was on her beam-ends and the sea 
broke furiously over her; all was dark as pitch, except the 
light from the blazing stump of the foremast, appearing 
like a torch, held up by the wild demons of the storm, or 
when occasionally the gleaming lightning cast a momen- 
tary glare, threatening every moment to repeat its attack 
upon the vessel, while the deafening thunder burst almost 
on their devoted heads. All was dismay and confusion 
for a minute or two; at last Captain Wilson, who had 
himself lost his sight for a short time, called for the car- 
penter and axes — they climbed up, that is, two or three 
of them, and he pointed to the mizzen-mast; the master 
was also there, and he cut loose the axes for the seamen to 
use; in a few minutes the mizzen-mast fell over the 
quarter, and the helm being put hard up, the frigate 
payed off and slowly righted. But the horror of the 
scene was not yet over. The boatswain, who had been on 
the forecastle, had been led below, for his vision was gone 
forever, The men whc lay scattered about had been 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


237 


examined, and they were assisting them down to the care 
of the surgeon, when the cry of ‘‘Fire!” issued from the 
lower deck. The ship had taken fire at the coal-hole and 
carpenter’s store-room, and the smoke that now ascended 
was intense. 

“Call the drummer,” said Captain Wilson, “and let 
him beat to quarters — all hands to their stations — let the 
pumps be rigged and the buckets passed along. Mr. 
Martin, see that the wounded men are taken down below. 
Where’s Mr. Haswell? Mr. Pottyfar, station the men to 
pass the water on by hand on the lower deck. I will go 
there myself. Mr. Jones, take charge of the ship.” 

Pottyfar, who actually had taken his hands out of his 
pockets, hastened down to comply with the captain’s 
orders on the main-deck as Captain Wilson descended to 
the deck below. 

“I say, Jack, this is very different from this morning,” 
observed Gascoigne. 

“Yes,” replied Jack, “so it is; but I say, Gascoigne, 
what’s the best thing to do? When the chimney’s on 
fire on shore, they put a wet blanket over it.” 

“Yes,” replied Gascoigne; “but when the coal-hole’s 
on fire on board, they will not find that sufficient.” 

“At all events, wet blankets must be a good thing, Ned, 
so let us pull out the hammocks; cut the lanyards and get 
some out — we can but offer them, you know, and if they 
do no good, at least it will show our zeal.” 

“Yes, Jack, and I think when they turn in again, 
those whose blankets you take will agree with you, that 
zeal makes the service very uncomfortable. However, I 
think you are right.” 

The two midhsipmen collected three or four hands, and 
in a very short time they had more blankets than they 
could carry — there was no trouble in wetting them, for 
the main-deck was afloat — and followed by the men they 
had collected, Easy and Gascoigne went down with large 
bundles in their arms to where Captain Wilson was giving 
directions to the men. 

“Excellent, Mr. Easy! excellent, Mr. Gascoigne!” said 
Captain Wilson. “Come, my lads, throw them over now, 
and stamp upon them well;” the men’s jackets and the 
captain’s coat had already been sacrificed to the same 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


238 

Easy called the other midshipmen, and they went up 
for a further supply; but there was no occasion, the fire 
had been smothered; still, the danger had been so great 
that the fore magazine had been floated. During all this, 
which lasted perhaps a quarter of an hour, the frigate had 
rolled gunwale under, and many were the accidents which 
occurred. At last, all danger from fire had ceased, and 
the men were ordered to return to their quarters, when 
three officers and forty-seven men were found absent — 
seven of them were dead, most of them were already under 
the care of the surgeon, but some were still lying in the 
scuppers. 

No one had been more active or more brave during this 
time of danger than Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain. He was 
everywhere, and when Captain Wilson went down to put 
out the fire, he was there encouraging the men and exert- 
ing himself most gallantly. He and Mesty came aft when 
all was over, one just as black as the other. The chap- 
lain sat down and wrung his hands — “God forgive me!” 
said he, “God forgive me!’ 

“Why so, sir?” said Easy, who stood near; “I am sure 
you need not be ashamed of what you have done.” 

“No, no, not ashamed of what I’ve done; but, Mr. 
Easy — I have sworn so, sworn such oaths at the men in 
my haste — I, the chaplain ! God forgive me ! I meant 
nothing.” It was very true that Mr. Hawkins had sworn 
a great deal during his exertions, but he was at that time 
the quarter-deck officer and not the chaplain ; the exam- 
ple to the men and his gallantry had been most serviceable. 

“Indeed, sir,” said Easy, who saw that the chaplain 
was in great tribulation, and hoped to pacify him, “I was 
certainly not there all the time, but I only heard you say, 
‘God bless you, my men! be smart,’ and so on; surely, 
that is not swearing.” 

“Was it that I said, Mr. Easy, are you sure? I really 

had an idea that I had d d them all" in heaps, as some 

of them deserved — no, no, not deserved. Did I really 
bless them — nothing but bless them?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Mesty, who perceived what Jack 
wanted; “it was nothing, I assure you, but ‘God bless 
you, Captain Wilson! Bless your Jheart, my good men! 
Bless the king!’ and so on. You do nothing but shower 
down blessing and wet blanket.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


239 


“I told yon so,” said Jack. 

“Well, Mr. Easy, you’ve made me very happy,” replied 
the chaplain; “I was afraid it was otherwise.” 

So indeed it was, for the chaplain had sworn like a 
boatswain; but, as Jack and Mesty had turned all his 
curses into blessings, the poor man gave himself absolu- 
tion, and shaking hands with Jack, hoped he would come 
down into the gun-room, and take a glass of grog; nor 
did he forget Mesty, who received a good allowance at the 
gun-room door, to which Jack gladly consented, as the 
rum in the middy’s berth had all been exhausted after the 
rainy morning — but Jack was interrupted in his third 
glass, by somebody telling him the captain wanted to 
speak with Mr. Hawkins and with him. 

Jack went up, and found the captain on the quarter- 
deck with the officers. 

“Mr. Easy,” said Captain Wilson, “I have sent for you, 
Mr. Hawkins, and Mr. Gascoigne, to thank you on the 
quarter-deck for your exertions and presence of mind on 
this -trying occasion.” Mr. Hawkins made a bow, Gas- 
coigne said nothing, but he thought of having extra leave 
when they arrived at Malta. Jack felt inclined to make 
a speech, and began something about when there was 
danger that it leveled every one to an equality even on 
board a man-of-war. 

“By no means, Mr. Easy,” replied Captain Wilson, “it 
does the very contrary, for it proves which is the best 
man, and those who are the best raise themselves at once 
above the rest.” 

Jack was very much inclined to argue the point, but 
he took the compliment and held his tongue, which was 
the wisest thing he could have done; so he made his bow, 
and was about to go down into the midshipmen’s berth 
when the frigate was pooped by a tremendous sea, which 
washed all those who did not hold on down into the waist. 
Jack was among the number, and naturally catching at 
the first object which touched him, he caught hold of the 
chaplain by the leg, who commenced swearing most terri- 
bly, but before he could finish the oath, the water which 
had burst info the cabin through the windows— for the 
dead-lights, in the confusion, had not yet been shipped — 
burst out the cross bulk-heads, sweeping like a torent the 
marine, the cabin-do9r, and everything else in its foree ? 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


240 

and floating Jack and the chaplain with several others 
down the main hatchway on to the lower deck. The 
lower deck being also full of water, men and chests were 
rolling and tossing about, and Jack was sometimes in 
company with the chaplain, and at other times separated ; 
at last they both recovered their legs, and gained the 
midshipmen’s berth, which although afloat was still a haven 
of security. Mr. Hawkins spluttered and spit, and so did 
Jack, unitl he began to laugh. 

“This is very trying, Mr. Easy,” said the chaplain; 
“very trying indeed to the temper. I hope I have not 
sworn — I hope not.” 

“Not a word,” said Jack — “I was close to you all the 
time — you only said, ‘God preserve us!’ ” 

“Only that? I was afraid that I said ‘God d — mn it!’ ” 
“Quite a mistake, Mr. Hawkins. Let’s go into the 
gun-room and try to wash this salt water out of our 
mouths, and then I will tell you all you said, as far as I 
could hear it, word for word.” 

So Jack by this means got another glass of grog, which 
was very acceptable in his wet condition, and made him- 
self very comfortable, while those on deck were putting 
on the dead-lights, and very busy setting the goose wings 
of the mainsail to prevent the frigate from being pooped 
a second time. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO BECOMES EXCESSIVELY UNWELL, 
AND AGREES TO GO THROUGH A COURSE OF MEDI- 
CINE. 

The hammocks were not piped down that night; some 
were taken indiscriminately for the wounded, but the rest 
remained in the nettings, for all hands were busy prepar- 
ing jury-masts and jury -rigging, and Mr. Pottyfar was so 
well employed that, for twelve hours, his hands were not 
in his pockets. It was indeed a dreadful night : the waves 
were mountains high, and chased the frigate in their fury, 
cresting, breaking, and roaring at her taffrail, but she 
flew before them with the wings of the wind; four men 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. ~ 


241 


at the helm assisted by others at the relieving tackles 
below. Jack, having been thanked on and washed off the 
quarter-deck, thought that he had done quite enough; he 
was as deep as he could swim, before he had satisfied all 
the scruples of the chaplain, and stowing himself away on 
one of the lockers of the midshipmen’s berth, was soon 
fast asleep, notwithstanding that the frigate rolled gun- 
wale under. Gascoigne had done much better; he had 
taken down a hammock, as he said, for a poor wounded 
man, hung it up, and turned in himself. The conse- 
quence was, that the next morning the surgeon, who saw 
him lying in the hammock, had put him down in the re- 
port, but as Gascoigne had got up as well as ever, he 
laughed and scratched his name out of the list of wounded. 

Before morning the ship had been pumped out dry, and 
all below made as secure and safe as circumstances would 
permit; but the gale still continued its violence, and 
there was anything but comfort on board. 

“I say, Martin, you ought to be thrown overboard,” 
said Gascoigne; “all this comes from your croaking — 
you’re a Mother Cary’s chicken.” 

“I wish I had been any one’s chicken,” replied Martin; 
“but the devil a thing to nestle under have I had since I 
can well remember.” 

“What a bore to have no galley fire lighted,” said one 
of the youngsters, “no tea. and not allowed any grog.” 

“The gale will last three days,” replied Martin, 
“and by that time we shall not be far from the admiral; 
it won’t blow home there.” 

“Well, then, we shall be ordered in directly, and I shall 
go on shore to-morrow,” replied Easy. 

“Yes, if you’re ill,” replied Gascoigne. 

“Never fear, I shall be sick enough; we shall be there 
at least six weeks, and then we’ll forget all this.” 

“Yes,” replied Martin, “we may forget it, but will the 
poor fellows whose limbs are shriveled forget it? and will 
poor Miles, the boatswain, who is blind forever?” 

“Very true, Martin, we are thinking about ourselves, 
not thankful for our escape, and not feeling for others,” 
replied Gascoigne. 

“Give us your hand, Ned,” said Jack Easy. “And, 
Martin, we ought to thank you for telling us the truth — 
we are a selfish set of fellows.” 


242 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Still we took our share with the others, ” replied one of 
the midshipmen. 

“That’s more reason for us to he grateful and to pity 
them,” replied Jack; “suppose you had lost your arm or 
your eyesight — we should have pitied you ; so now pity 
others.” 

“Well, so I do, now I think of it.” 

“Think oftener, youngster,” observed Martin, going on 
deck. 

hat a change from the morning of the day before! 
But twenty-four hours had passed away, and the sea had 
been smooth, the frigate dashed through the blue water, 
proud in all her canvas, graceful as a swan. Since that, 
there had been fire, tempest, lightning, disaster, danger, 
and death; her masts were tossed about on the snowy 
waves hundreds of miles away from her, and she, a wreck, 
was rolling heavily, groaning and complaining in every 
timber as she urged her impetuous race with the furious 
running sea. y 

How wrong are those on shore who assert that sailors 
are not religious ! How is it possible, supposing them to 
be possessed of feeling, to be otherwise? On shore, where 
you have nothing but the change of seasons, each in its 
own peculiar beauty — nothing but the blessings of the 
earth, its fruit, its flowers — nothing but the bounty, the 
comforts, the luxuries which have been invented, where 
you can rise in the morning in peace, and lay down your 
head at night in security — God may be neglected and for- 
gotten for a long time; but at sea, when each gale is a 
warning, each disater acts as a check, each escape as a 
homily upon the forbearance of Providence, that man 
must be indeed brutalized who does not feel that God is 
there. On shore we seldom view him but in all his beauty 
and kindness; but at sea we are as often reminded how 
terrible he is in his wrath. Can it be supposed that the 
occurrences of the last twenty-four hours were lost upon 
the minds of any one man in that ship? No, no. In 
their courage and activity they might appear reckless, 
but in their hearts they acknowledged and bowed unto 
their God. 

Before the day was over a jury-foremast had been got 
up, and sail having been put upon it, the ship was steered 
with greater ease and safety— the main-brace had been 


Mtt. MltosmPMAtf BAST. 


m 


spliced, to cheer up the exhausted crew, and the ham- 
mocks were piped down. 

As Gascoigne had observed, some of the men were not 
very much pleased to find that they were minus their 
blankets, but Captain Wilson ordered their losses to be 
supplied by the purser and expended by the master : this 
quite altered the case, as they obtained new blankets, in , 
most cases, for old ones, but still it was impossible to light 
the galley fire, and the men sat on their chests and nib- 
bled biscuit. By twelve o’clock that night the gale 
broke, and more sail was necessarily put on the scudding 
vessel, for the sea still ran fast and mountains high. At 
daylight the sun burst out and shone brightly on them, 
the sea went gradually down, the fire was lighted, and 
Mr. Pottyfar, whose hands were again in his pockets, at 
twelve o’clock gave the welcome order to pipe to dinner. 
As soon as the men had eaten their dinner, the frigate 
was once more brought to the wind, her jury-mast for- 
ward improved upon, and more sail made upon it. The 
next morning there was nothing of the gale left, except 
the dire effects which it had produced, the black and 
riven stump of the foremast still holding up a terrific 
warning of the power and fury of the elements. 

Three days more, and the Aurora joined the Toulon 
fieet. When she was first seen it was imagined by those 
on board of the other ships that she had been in action, 
but they soon learned that the conflict had been against 
more direful weapons than any yet invented by mortal 
hands. Captain Wilson waited upon the admiral, and of 
course received immediate orders to repair to port and 
refit. In a few hours the Aurora had shaped her course 
for Malta, and by sunset the Toulon fleet were no longer 
in sight. 

“By de holy poker, MassaEasy! but that terrible sort 
of gale the other day anyhow; I tink one time, we all 
go to Davy Joney’s locker.” 

“Very true, Mesty; I hope never to meet with such 
another.” 

“Den, Massa Easy, why you go to sea? When man ab 
no money, noting to eat, den he go to sea; but everybody 
say you ab plenty money. Why you come to sea?” 

“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Jack thoughtfully; 
V I came to sea on account of equality and the rights of 
naan.” 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“Eli, Massa Easy, yon come to wrong place anyhow; 
now I tink a good deal lately, and by all de power, I tink 
equality all stuff.” 

“All stuff, Mesty! why? You used to think other- 
wise.” 

“Yes, Massa Easy; but den I boil de kettle for all 
young gentlemen. Now dat I ship’s corporal and hab 
cane, I tink so no longer.” 

Jack made no reply, but he thought the more. The 
reader must have perceived that Jack’s notions of equality 
were rapidly disappearing; he defended them more from 
habit, and perhaps a willfulness which would not allow him 
to acknowledge himself wrong, to which may be added his 
love of argument. Already he had accustomed himself to 
obedience to his superiors, and, notwithstanding his argu- 
ments, he would admit of no resistance from those below 
him; not that it was hardly ever attempted, for Jack was 
anything but a tyrant, and was much beloved by all in the 
ship. Every day brought its lesson, and Captain Wilson 
was now satisfied that Jack had been almost cured of the 
effects of his father’s ridiculous philosophy. 

After a few minutes, Mesty tapped his cane on the 
funnel, and recommenced. 

“Then why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?” 

“I don’t know, Mesty; I don’t dislike it.” 

“But, Massa Easy, why you stay in midshipman berth 
— eat hard biscuit, salt pig, salt horse, when you can 
go shore, and live like gentleman? Dat very foolish! 
Why not be your own master? By all power! suppose I 
had money, catch me board ship. Little sea, very good, 
Massa Easy — open one eyes; but tink of the lightning 
’t’other night; poor massa boatswain, he shut um eyesfor- 
"ebber.” 

“Very true, Mesty.” 

“Me hope you tink of this, sar, and when you go on 
shore, you take Mesty wid you ; he sarve you well, Massa 
Easy, long as he live, by de holy St. Patrick ! And den, 
Massa Easy, you marry wife — hab pickaninny — lib like 
gentleman. You tink of this, Massa Easy.” 

The mention of the word marriage turned the thoughts 
of our hero to his Agnes, and he made no reply. Mesty 
walked away, leaving our hero in deep thought. 

This conversation had more effect upon Jack than 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN BAST. 


245 

would have been imagined, and he very often found he 
was putting to himself the question of Mesty, “Why do 
you stay at sea?” He had not entered the service with 
any particular view, except to find equality; and he could 
not but acknowledge to himself that, as Mesty observed, 
he had come to the wrong place. He had never even 
thought of staying to serve his time, nor had he looked 
forward to promotion, and one day commanding a ship. 
He had only cared for the present, without indulging in a 
future anticipation of any reward, except in a union with 
Agnes. Mesty ’s obervations occasioned Jack to reflect 
upon the future for the first time in his life; and he was 
always perplexed when he put the question of Mesty, and 
tried to answer to himself as to what were his intentions 
in remaining in the service. 

Nevertheless Jack did his duty very much to the satis- 
faction of Mr. Pottyf ar ; and after a tedious passage, from 
baffling and light winds, the Aurora arrived at Malta. 
Our hero had had some conversation with his friend Gas- 
coigne, in which he canvassed his future plans, all of 
which, however, ended in one settled point, which was 
that he was to marry Agnes. As ,for the rest, Gascoigne 
was of opinion that Jack ought to follow up the service, 
and become a captain ; but there was plenty of time to 
think about that, as he observed: now all they had to con- 
sider was, how to get on shore, for the refitting of the 
ship was an excuse for detaining them on board, which 
they knew Mr. Pottyfar would avail himself of. Jack 
dined in the gun-room on the day of their arrival, and he 
resolved that he would ask that very evening. Captain 
Wilson was already on shore at the governor’s. Now, 
there had been a little difference of opinion between Mr. 
Pottyfar and Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain, on a point of 
seamanship, and most of the officers sided with the chap- 
lain, who, as we have before observed, was a first-rate sea- 
man. It had ended in high words, for Mr. Hawkins had 
forgotten himself so far as to tell the first lieutenant that 
he had a great deal to learn, not having even got over the 
midshipman’s trick of keeping his hands in his pockets ; 
and Mr. Pottyfar had replied that it was very well for him 
as chaplain to insult others, knowing that his cassock pro- 
tected him. This was a bitter reply to Mr. Hawkins, 
who at the very time that the insinuation made his blood 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


boil, was also reminded that his profession forbade a re- 
tort; he rushed into his cabin, poor fellow, having no 
other method left, vented his indignation in tears, and 
then consoled himself by degrees with prayer. In the 
mean time, Mr. Pottyfar had gone on deck, wroth with 
Hawkins and with his messmates, as well as displeased 
with himself. He was, indeed, in a humor to be pleased 
with nobody, and in a most unfortunate humor to be 
asked leave by a midshipman. Nevertheless, Jack politely 
took olf his hat, and requested leave to go on shore and 
see his friend the governor. Upon which Mr. Pottyfar 
turned round to him, with his feet spread wide open, and 
thrusting his hands Jo the very bottom of his pockets, as 
if in determination, said, “Mr. Easy, you know the state 
of the ship; we have everything to do — new masts — new 
rigging — everything almost to refit, and yet you ask to go 
on shore! Now, sir, you may take this answer for your- 
self and all the other midshipmen in the ship, that not 
one soul of you puts his foot on shore until we are again 
all ataunto.” 

“Allow me to observe, sir,” said our hero, “'that it is 
very true that all our services may be required when the 
duty commences, but this being Saturday night, and to- 
morrow Sunday, the frigate will not be even moved till 
Monday morning; and as the work cannot begin before 
that, I trust you will permit leave until that time.” 

“My opinion is different, sir,” replied the first lieu- 
tenant. 

“Perhaps, sir, you will allow me to argue the point,” 
replied Jack. 

“No, sir, I never allow argument; walk over to the 
other side of the deck, if you please.” 

“Oh, certainly, sir,” said Jack, “if you wish it.” 

Jack’s first idea was to go on shore without leave, but 
from this he was persuaded by Gascoigne, who told him 
that it would displease Captain Wilson, and that old 
Tom, the governor, would not receive him. Jack agreed 
to this, and then, after a flourish about the rights of man, 
tyranny, oppression, and so forth, he walked forward to 
the forecastle, where he found his friend Mesty, who had 
heard all that had passed, and who insidiously said to him 
in a low tone : 

“Why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


m 


“Why., indeed,” thought Jack, boiling with indigna- 
tion, “to be cooped up here at the will of another? I am 
a fool — Mesty is right — I’ll ask for my discharge to- 
morrow.” Jack went down below and told Gascoigne 
what he had determined to do. 

“You’ll do no such thing, Jack,” replied Gascoigne; 
“depend upon it you’ll have plenty of leave in a day or 
two. Pottyfar was in a pet with the chaplain, who was 
too much for him. Captain Wilson will be on board by 
nine o’clock.” 

Nevertheless, Jack walked his first watch in the mag - 
nificents , as all middies do when they cannot go on shore, 
and turned in at twelve o’clock, with the resolution of 
sticking to his purpose, and quitting his majesty’s service; 
in fact, of presenting his majesty with his between two 
and three years’ time, served as midshipmen, all free, 
gratis, and for nothing, except his provisions and his pay, 
which some captains are bold enough to assert that they 
not only are not worth, but not even the salt that accom- 
panies it; forgetting that they were once midshipmen 
themselves, and at the period were, of course, of about 
the same value. 

The next morning Captain Wilson came off; the ship’s 
company were mustered, the service read by Mr. Haw- 
kins, and Jack, as soon as all the official duties were over, 
was about to go up to the captain, when the captain said 
to him : 

“Mr. Easy, the governor desired me to bring you on 
shore to dine with him, and he has a bed at your service.” 

Jack touched his hat and ran down below, to make his 
few preparations. 

By the time that Mesty, who had taken charge of his 
chest, etc., had put his necessaries in the boat, Jack had 
almost made up his mind that his majesty should not be 
deprived yet awhile of so valuable an officer. Jack re- 
turned on deck, and found that the captain was not yet 
ready ; he went up to Mr. Pottyfar, and told him that the 
captain had ordered him to go on shore with him ; and 
Mr. Pottyfar, who had quite got over his spleen, said : 

“Very well, Mr. Easy — I wish you a great deal of 
pleasure.” 

“This is very different from yesterday,” thought Jack, 
“suppose I try the medicine?” 


m 


Mil MIDSHIPMAN PAST. 


“I am not very well, Mr. Pottyfar, and those pills of 
the doctor’s don’t agree with me — I always am ill if I am 
long without air and exercise.” 

“Very true,” said the first lieutenant, “people require 
air and exercise. I’ve no opinion of the doctor’s remedies ; 
the only thing that is worth a farthing is the Universal 
Medicine.” 

“I should so long to try it, sir,” replied Jack. “I 
read the book one day, and it said that if you took it daily 
for a fortnight or three weeks, and with plenty of air and 
exercise, it would do wonders.” 

“And it’s very true,” replied Mr. Pottyfar, “and if 
you’d like to trv it you shall — I have plenty — shall I give 
you a dose now?” 

“If you please, sir,” replied Jack; “and tell me how 
often I am to take it, for my head aches all day.” 

Mr. Pottyfar took Jack down, and putting into his 
hand three or four bottles of the preparation, told him 
that he was to take thirty drops at night, when he went 
to bed, not to drink more than two glasses of wine, and to 
avoid the heat of the sun. 

“But, sir,” replied Jack, who had put the bottles in 
his pocket, “I am afraid that I cannot take it long; for as 
the ship is ready for fitting, I shall be exposed to the sun 
all day.” 

“Yes, if, you were wanted, Mr. Easy; but we have 
plenty here without you; and when you are unwell you 
cannot be expected to work. Take care of your health, 
and I trust, indeed I am sure, that you will find this 
medicine wonderfully efficacious.” 

“I will begin to-night, sir, if you please,” replied Jack, 
“and I am very much obliged to you. I sleep at the gov- 
ernor’s — shall I come on board to-morrow morning?” 

“No, no; take care of yourself and get well; I shall be 
glad to hear that you get better. Send me word how it 
acts.” 

“I will, sir, send you word by the boat every day,” re- 
plied Jack, delighted; “I am very much obliged to you, 
sir. Gascoigne and I were thinking of asking you, but 
did not like to do so : he, poor fellow, suffers from headaches 
almost as bad as I ao, and the doctor’s pills are of no use 
to him.” 

“He shall have some too, Mr. Easy. I thought he 


Mr. MIDSMIPMaM PA8f. 


m 

looked pale. I’ll see to it this afternoon. Recollect, 
moderate exercise, Mr. Easy, and avoid the sun at mid- 
day.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I’ll not forget;” and off 
went Jack, delighted. He ordered Mesty to put up his 
whole portmanteau instead of the small bundle he put 
into the boat, and telling Gascoigne what a spoke he had 
put into his wheel, was soon in the boat with the captain, 
and went on shore, where he was cordially greeted by the 
governor. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

IN WHICH CAPTAIN WILSON IS REPAID WITH INTEREST 
FOR JACK’S BORROWING. HIS NAME: PROVING THAT 
A GOOD NAME IS AS GOOD AS A LEGACY. 

“Well, Jack, my hoy, have you any long story ready for 
me?” inquired the governor. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I have one or two very good 
ones.” 

“Very well, we’ll hear them after dinner,” replied old 
Tom. “In the mean time, find out your room, and take 
possession.” 

“That must not he for very long, governor,” observed 
Captain Wilson. “Mr. Easy must learn his duty, and 
there is a good opportunity now.” 

“If you please, sir,” replied Jack, “I’m on the sick- 
list.” 

“Sick-list,” said Captain Wilson; “you were not in the 
report that Mr. Wilson gave me this morning.” 

“No, I’m on Mr. Pottyfar’s list; and I’m going through 
a course of the Universal Medicine.” 

“What’s all this, Jack — what’s all this? — there’s some 
story here — don’t be afraid of the captain — you’ve me to 
back you,” said the governor. 

Jack was not at all afraid of the captain, so he told him 
how the first lieutenant had refused him leave the evening 
before, and how he had now given him permission to re- 
main, and try the Universal Medicine, at which the gover- 
nor laughed heartily, nor could Captain Wilson refrain 
from joining. 


250 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN RASY. 


“But, Mr. Easy,” replied the captain after a pause, “if 
Mr. Pottyfar will allow you to stay on shore, I cannot — 
you have your duty to learn. You must be aware that 
now is your time, and you must not lose opportunities 
that do not occur every day. You must acknowledge the 
truth of what I say.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I admit it all, provided I do 
intend to follow the profession;” and so saying, our hero 
bowed and left the veranda where they had been talking. 

This hint of Jack’s, thrown out by him more with the 
intention of preventing his being sent on board than with 
any definite idea, was not lost upon either the captain or 
the governor. 

“Does he jib, then?” observed the governor. 

“On the contrary, I never knew him more attentive 
and so entirely getting rid of his former notions. He has 
behaved most nobly in the gale, and there has not been 
one complaint against him — I never was more astonished 
— he must have meant something.” 

“I’ll tell you what he means, Wilson, that he does not 
like to be sent on board, nothing more. He’s not to be 
cooped up — you may lead him but not drive him.” 

“Yes, but the service will not admit of it. I never 
could allow it — he must do his duty like the rest, and 
conform to the rules.” 

“Exactly, so he must; but look ye, Wilson, you must 
not lose him ; it’s all easily settled — appoint him your 
orderly midshipman to and from the ship ; that will be 
employment, and he can always remain here at night. I 
will tell him that I have asked, as a favor, what I now do, 
and leave me to find out what he is thinking about.” 

“It may be done that way, certainly,” replied Captain 
Wilson, musing; “and you are more likely to get his in- 
tentions from him than I am. Iam afraid he has too 
great a command of money ever to be fond of the ship; it 
is the ruin of a junior officer to be so lavishly supplied.” 

“He’s a long way from ruin yet, Wilson — he’s a very 
fine fellow, even by your own acknowledgment. You 
humored him out of gratitude to his father, when he first 
came into the service; humor him a little now to keep 
him in it. Besides, if your first lieutenant is such a fool 
with his Universal Medicine, can you wonder at a mid- 
shipman taking advantage of it?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


251 


“No, but I ought not to allow him to do so with my 
eyes open.” 

“He has made it known to you upon honor, and you 
ought not to take advantage of his confidence; but still 
what I proposed would, I think, be the best, for then he 
will be at his duty in a way that will suit all parties. 
You, because you employ him on service — the first lieu- 
tenant, because Jack can take his medicine — and Jack, 
because he can dine with me every day.” 

“Well, I suppose it must be so,” replied Captain Wil- 
son, laughing; “but still, I trust, you will discover what 
is working in his mind to induce him to give me that 
answer, governor.” 

“Never fear, Jack shall confess, and lay his soul as 
bare as that of a Catholic bigot before his padre.” 

The party sat down to dinner, and what with the gov- 
ernor’s aid-de-camp and those invited, it was pretty 
numerous. After the cloth had been removed, the gov- 
ernor called upon Jack for his stories, whereupon, much 
to the surprise of Captain Wilson, who had never heard 
one word of it, for the admiral had not mentioned any- 
thing about it to him during the short time the Aurora 
was with the Toulon fleet, our hero gave the governor and 
the company the narrative of all that happened in the 
Mary Ann transport — the loves of Captain Hogg and Miss 
Hicks — the adventures of Gascoigne — and his plan, by 
which he balked them all. The governor was delighted, 
and Captain Wilson not a little astonished. 

“You prevented a very foolish thing, Mr. Easy, and 
behaved very well,” observed the captain, laughing again 
at the idea; “but you never told me of all this.” 

“No, sir,” replied Jack, “I have always reserved my 
stories for the governor’s table, where I am sure to meet 
you, and then telling once does for all.” 

Jack received his appointment as orderly midshipman, 
and everything went on well; for, of his own accord, he 
stayed on board the major part of the day to learn his 
duty, which very much pleased the captain and • Mr. 
Pottyfar. In this Jack showed a great deal of good sense, 
and Captain Wilson did not repent of the indulgence he 
had shown him. Jack’s health improved daily, much to 
Mr. Pottyfar’s satisfaction, who imagined that he took 
the Universal Medicine night and morning. Gascoigne 


252 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


also was a patient under the first lieutenant’s hands, and 
often on shore with our hero, who thought no more of 
quitting the service. 

For seven weeks they had now remained in harbor, for 
even the masts had to be made, when, one day, Captain 
Wilson opened a letter he received at breakfast-time, and 
having read it, laid it down with the greatest surprise de- 
picted in his countenance. “Good heavens! what can 
this mean?” said he. 

“What’s the matter, Wilson?” said the governor. 

“Just hear its contents, Sir Thomas.” 

Captain Wilson then read in Spanish as follows: 

“Honorable Sir: It is my duty to advise you that the 
Honorable Lady Signora Alforgas de Guzman, now de- 
ceased, has in her testament bequeathed to you the sum 
of one thousand doubloons in gold, as a testimony of your 
kind services on the night of the 12th of August. If 
you will authorize any merchant here to receive the 
money, it shall be paid forthwith, or remitted in any way 
you please to appoint. May you live a thousand years! 

“Your most obedient servant, 

“Alfonzo Xerez.” 

Jack heard the letter read, rose quietly, whistled low, 
as if not attending to it, and then slipped out of the room, 
unperceived by the governor or Captain Wilson. 

The fact was, that although Jack had longed to tell 
the governor about his adventures after the masquerade, 
he did not like yet awhile, until he was sure that there 
were no consequences — because he had given the captain’s 
name instead of his own. As soon as he heard the letter 
read he at once perceived that it had been the old lady, 
and not the priests, who had made the inquiry, and that 
by giving Captain Wilson’s name he had obtained for him 
this fine legacy. Jack was delighted, but still puzzled, so 
he walked out of the room to reflect a little. 

“AVhat can it mean?” said Captain AYilson. “I never 
rendered any services to any one on the 12th of August or 
after it. It is some mistake — 12th of August, that was 
the day of the grand masquerade.” 

“A lucky one for you, at all events — for you know, mis- 
take or not, no one else can touch the legacy. It can 
only be paid to yon,” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


253 


ce l never heard of anything taking place at the mas- 
querade — I was there, but I left early, for I was not very 
well. Mr. Easy,” said Captain Wilson, turning round, 
but Jack was gone. 

“Was he at the masquerade?” asked the governor. 

“Yes, I know he was, for the first lieutenant told me 
that he requested not to come on board till the next day.” 

“Depend upon it,” replied the governor, striking his 
fist upon the table, “that Jack’s at the bottom of it.” 

“I should not be surprised at his being at the bottom of 
anything,” replied Captain Wilson, laughing. 

“Leave it to me, Wilson, I’ll find it out.” 

After a little more conversation, Captain Wilson went 
on board, leaving Jack, on purpose that the governor 
might pump him. But this Sir Thomas had no occasion 
to do, for Jack had made up his mind to make the gov- 
ernor his confidant, and he immediately told him the 
whole story. The governor held his sides at our hero’s 
description, especially at his ruse of giving the captain’s 
name instead of his own. 

“Yortfll kill me, Jack, before you’ve done with me,” 
said old Tom at last; “but now what is to be done?” 

Our hero now became grave; he pointed out to the gov- 
ernor that he himself had plenty of money and would 
come into a large fortune, and that Captain Wilson was 
poor, with a large family. All Jack wished the governor 
to manage was, that Captain Wilson might consent to 
accept the legacy. 

“Right, boy, right! you’re my own boy,” replied the 
governor; “but we must think of this, for Wilson is the 
very soul of honor, and there may be some difficulty about 
it. You have told nobody?” 

“Not a soul but you, Sir Thomas.” 

“It never will do to tell him all this, Jack, for he would 
insist that the legacy belonged to you.” 

“I have it, sir,” replied Jack. “When I was gcing 
into the masquerade, I offered to hand this very old lady, 
who was covered with diamonds, out of her carriage, and 
she was so frightened at my dress of a devil, that she 
would have fallen down had it not been for Captain Wil- 
son, who supported her, and she was very thankful to 
him.” 

“You are right, Jack,” replied the governor, after a 


254 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


short pause; “that will, I think, do. I must tell him the 
story of the friars, because I swore you had something to 
do with it — but I’ll tell him no more: leave it all to me.” 

Captain Wilson returned in the afternoon, and found 
the governor in the veranda. 

“I have had some talk with young Easy,” said the gov- 
ernor, “and he has told me a strange story about that 
night, which he was afraid to tell to everybody.” 

The governor then narrated the history of the friars 
and the will. 

“Well, but,” observed Captain Wilson, “the history of 
that will afford no clew to the legacy.” 

“No, it does not; but still, as I said, Jack had a hand 
in this. He frightened the old lady as a devil, and you 
caught her in your arms and saved her from falling, so he 
had a hand in it, you see.” 

“I do now remember that I did save a very dowager- 
like old personage from falling at the sight of a devil, 
who, of course, must have been our friend Easy.” 

“Well, and that accounts for the whole of it.” 

“A thousand doubloons for picking up an old lady!” 

“Yes, why not? Have you not heard of a man having 
a fortune left him for merely opening the pew door of a 
church to an old gentleman?” 

“Yes, but it appears so strange.” 

“There’s nothing strange in this world, Wilson, noth- 
ing at all — we may slave for years and get no reward, and 
do a trifle out of politeness and become independent. In 
my opinion, this mystery is unraveled. The old lady, for 
I knew the family, must have died immensely rich. " She 
knew you in your full uniform, and she asked your name; 
a heavy fall would have been to one so fat a most serious 
affair — yoh saved her, and she has rewarded you hand- 
somely.” 

“Well,” replied Captain Wilson, “as I can give no 
other explanation, I suppose yours is the correct one; but 
it’s hardly fair to take a thousand doubloons from her 
relations merely for an act of civility.” 

“You really are quite ridiculous; the old lady owned 
half Murcia, to my knowledge. It is no more to them 
than any one leaving you a suit of mourning in an English 
legacy. I wish you joy; it will help you with a large 
family, and in justice to them you are bound to take it, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


255 


Everybody does as he pleases with his own money, depend 
npon it — you saved her from breaking her leg short off at 
the hip-joint. ” 

“Upon that supposition I presume I must accept of the 
legacy,” replied Captain Wilson, laughing. 

“Of course; send for it at once. The rate of exchange 
is now high. I will give you government bills, which will 
make it nearly four thousand pounds.” 

“Four thousand pounds for preventing an old woman 
from falling!” replied Captain Wilson. 

“Devilish well paid, Wilson, and I congratulate you.” 

“For how much am I indebted to the father of young 
Easy!” observed Captain Wilson, after a silence of some 
minutes; “if he had not assisted me when I was appointed 
to a ship I should not have gained my promotion — nor 
three thousand pounds I have made in prize-money — the 
command of a fine frigate — and now four thousand pounds 
in a windfall.” 

The governor thought that he was more indebted to 
Jack than to his father, for some of these advantages; but 
he was careful not to point them out. 

“It’s very true,” observed the governor, “that Mr. 
Easy was of service to you when you were appointed, but 
allow me to observe, that for your ship, your prize-money, 
and for your windfall, you have been wholly indebted to 
your own gallantry in both senses of the word; still Mr. 
Easy is a fine generous fellow, and so is his son, I can tell 
you. By the bye, I had a long conversation with him the 
other day.” 

“About himself?” 

“Yes; all about himself. He appears to me tp have 
come into the service without any particular motive and 
will be just as likely to leave it in the same way. He ap- 
pears to be very much in love with that Sicilian noble- 
man’s daughter. I find that he has written to her and to 
her brother, since he has been here.” 

“That he came into the service in search of what he 
never will find in this world, I know very well; and I 
presume that he has found that out, and that he will fol- 
low up the service is also very doubtful ; but I do not wish 
that he should leave it yet; it is doing him great good,” 
replied Captain Wilson. 

“I agree with you there; I have great influence with 


256 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


him, and he shall stay yet awhile. He is heir to a very 
large fortune, is he not?” 

“A clear eight thousand pounds a year, if not more.” 

“If his father dies, he must, of course, leave; a mid- 
shipman with eight thousand pounds a year would indeed 
be an anomaly.” 

“That the service could not permit. It would be as in- 
jurious to himself as it would to others about him. At 
present he has almost, indeed I may say quite, an un • 
limited command of money.” 

“That’s bad, very bad. I wonder he behaves so well 
as he does.” 

“And so do I; but he really he is a very superior lad, 
with all his peculiarities, and a general favorite with those 
whose opinions and friendship are worth having.” 

“Well, don’t curb him up too tight, for really he does 
not require it. He goes very well in a snaffle.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“philosophy made easy” upon agrarian principles 

THE SUBJECT OF SOME UNEASINESS TO OUR HERO — 
THE FIRST APPEARANCE, BUT NOT THE LAST, OF 
AN IMPORTANT PERSONAGE. 

The conversation was here interrupted by a mail from 
England which they had been expecting. Captain Wil- 
son retired with his letters; the governor remained 
equally occupied ; and our hero received the first letter 
ever written to him by his father. It ran as follows: 

“My Dear Son: I have many times taken up my pen 
with the intention of letting you know how things went 
on in this country. But as I can perceive around but one 
dark horizon of evil, I have as often laid it down again 
without venturing to make you unhappy with such bad 
intelligence. 

“The account of your death, and also of your unex- 
pectedly being yet spared to us, were duly received, and I 
trust I mourned and rejoiced on each occasion with all * 
the moderation characteristic of a philosopher. In the 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


257 


first instance I consoled myself with the reflection that 
the world you had left was in a state of slavery and 
pressed down by the iron arm of despotism; and that to 
die was gain, not only in all the parson tells us, but also 
in our liberty; and, at the second intelligence, I moder- 
ated my joy for nearly about the same reasons, resolving, 
notwithstanding what Dr. Middleton may say, to die as I 
have lived, a true philosopher. 

“The more I reflect, the more am I convinced that 
there is nothing required to make this world happy but 
equality, and the rights' of man being duly observed; in 
short, that everything and everybody should be reduced 
to one level. Do we not observe that it is the law of 
nature : do not brooks run into rivers — rivers into seas — 
mountains crumble down upon the plains? Are not the 
seasons contented to equalize the parts of the earth? 
Why does the sun run round the ecliptic instead of the 
equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both 
sides of the world? Are we not all equally born in 
misery? does not death level us all equo pede , as the poet 
hath? are not we all equally hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, 
and thus leveled by our natural wants? And such being 
the case, ought we not to have our equal share of good 
things in this world, to which we have an undoubted 
equal right? Can any argument be more solid or more 
level than this, whatever nonsense Dr. Middleton may 
talk? 

“Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to 
see the sun of Justice arise, and disperse the mani- 
fold dark clouds which obscure the land; if I did 
not still hope, in my time, to see an equal distribution 
of property — an agrarian law passed by the House of 
Commons, in which all should benefit alike; I would 
not care how soon I left this vale of tears, created by 
tyranny and injustice. At present, the same system 
is carried on, the nation is taxed for the benefit of 
the few, and it groans under oppression and despotism; 
but I still do think that there is, if I may fortunately ex- 
press myself, a bright star in the west, and signs of the 
times which comfort .me. Already we have had a good 
deal of incendiarism about the country, and soi*e of the 
highest aristocracy have pledged themselves to raise the 
people above themselves, and have advised sedition 


258 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


and conspiracy; have shown to the debased and 
unenlightened multitude that their force is physically 
irresistible, and recommended them to make use of it, 
promising that if they hold in power, they will only use 
that power to the abolition of our farce of a constitution, 
of a church, and of a king; and that if the nation is to be 
governed at all, it shall only be governed by the many. 
This is cheering. Hail, patriot lords! all hail! I am in 
hopes that the great work will be achieved, in spite of the 
laughs and sneers and shakes of the head which my argu- 
ments still meet with from that obstinate fellow, Dr. 
Middleton. 

“Your mother is in a quiet way; she has given over 
reading and working, and even her knitting, as useless; 
and she now sits all day long at the chimney corner twid- 
dling her thumbs and waiting, as she says, for the millen- 
nium. Poor thing! she is very foolish with her ideas 
upon this matter, but as usual I let her have her own way 
in everything, copying the philosopher of old who was 
tied to his Xantippe. 

“I trust, my dear son, that your principles have 
strengthened with your years and fortified with your 
growth, and that, if necessary, you will sacrifice all to 
obtain what, in my opinion, will prove to be the real 
millennium. Make all the converts you can, and believe 
me to be, 

“Your affectionate father, and true guide, • 

“Nicodemus Easy.” 

Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this 
letter, and then laid it down with a pish ! He did it in- 
voluntarily, and was surprised at himself when he found 
that he had so done. “I should like to argue the point,” 
thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the 
letter on the tabfe, and went into Gascoigne’s room, dis- 
pleased with his father and with himself. He asked Ned 
whether he had received any letters from England, and, 
it being near dinner-time, went back to dress. On his 
coming down into the receiving-room with Gascoigne, the 
governor said to them : 

“As you two both speak Italian, you must take charge 
of a Sicilian officer who has come here with letters of in- 
troduction to me, and who dines here to-day.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY . 


259 


Before dinner they were introduced to the party in 
question, a slight-made, well-looking young man, but still 
there was an expression in his countenance which was not 
agreeable. In compliance with the wishes of the gov- 
ernor, Don Mathias, for so he was called, was placed be- 
tween our two midshipmen, who immediately entered 
into conversation with him, being themselves anxious to 
make inquiries about their friends at Palermo. In the 
course of conversation, Jack inquired of him whether he 
was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the Sicilian 
answered in the affirmative, and they talked about the 
different members of the family. Don Mathias, toward 
the close of the dinner, inquired of Jack by what means 
he had become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, 
in reply, narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had 
saved him from being murdered by two villains ; after this 
reply the young officer appeared to be less inclined for 
conversation, but before the party broke up, requested to 
have the acquaintance of our two midshipmen.- As soon 
as he was gone Gascoigne observed, in a reflective way, 
“I have seen that face before, but where I cannot exactly 
say; but you know, Jack, what a memory of people I 
have, and I have seen him before, I am sure.” 

“I can’t recollect that ever I have,” replied our hero, 
“but I never knew any one who could recollect in that 
way as you do.” 

The conversation was then dropped between them, and 
Jack was for some time listening to the governor and 
Captain Wilson, for the whole party were gone away, 
when Gascoigne, who had been in deep thought since he 
had made the observation to Jack, sprang up. 

“I have him at last!” cried he. 

“Have who?” demanded Captain Wilson. 

“That Sicilian officer — I could have sworn that I had 
seen him before.” 

“That Don Mathias?” 

“ISTo, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is 
’"the very Don Silvio who was murdering Don Rebiera 
when we came to his assistance and saved him.” 

“I do believe you are right, Gascoigne.” 

“I am positive of it,” replied Gascoigne; “I never 
made a mistake in my life.” 

“Bring me those letters, Easy,” said the governor, 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN BAST. 


m 

“and let us see what they say of him. Here it is— Don 
Mathias de Alayeres. You may he mistaken, Gascoigne; 
it’s a heavy charge you are making against this young 
man.” 

“Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I’d for- 
feit my commission if I had it here in my hand. Be- 
sides, I observed the change in his countenance when we 
told him it was Easy and I who had come to Don Rebiera’s 
assistance; and did you observe after that, Easy, that he 
hardly said a word?” 

“Very true,” replied Jack. 

“Well, well, we must see to this,” observed the gov- 
ernor; “if so, this letter of introduction must be a 
forgery.” 

The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, 
while Easy was in Gascoigne’s room talking over their 
suspicions, letters from Palermo were brought up to him. 
They were in answer to those written by Jack on his 
arrival at Malta; a few lines from Don Rebiera, a small 
note from Agnes, and a voluminous detail from his friend 
Don Philip, who informed him of the good health of all 
parties, and of their good-will toward him; of Agnes 
being as partial as ever; of his having spoken plainly, as 
he had promised Jack, to his father and mother relative 
to the mutual attachment; of their consent being given, 
and then withheld because Father Thomas, their con- 
fessor, would not listen to the union of Agnes with a 
heretic; but, nevertheless, telling Jack this would be got 
over through the medium of his brother and himself, who 
were determined that their sister and he should not be 
made unhappy about such a trifle. But the latter part 
of the letter contained intelligence equally important, 
which was that Don Silvio had again attempted the life 
of their father, and would have succeeded, had not Father 
Thomas, who happened to be there, thrown himself be- 
tween them. That Don Silvio in his rage had actually 
stabbed the confessor, although the wound was not dan- 
gerous. That, in consequence of this, all further lenity 
was denied to him, and that the authorities were in search 
of him to award him the punishment due to murder and 
sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find 
him, and it was supposed that he had made his escape to 
Malta, in one of the speronares. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


261 


Such were the contents of the letter, which were im- 
mediately communicated to the governor and Captain 
Wilson, upon their meeting at breakfast. 

“Very well, we must see to this,” observed the gov- 
ernor; who then made his inquiries as to the other intelli- 
gence contained in the letters. 

Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was 
over, when they made their escape; a few moments after- 
ward Captain Wilson rose to go on board, and sent for 
them, but they were not to be found. 

“I understand it all, Wilson,” said the governor; 
“leave them to me; go on board, and make yourself quite 
easy.” 

In the mean time our two midshipmen had taken their 
hats and walked away to the parapet of the battery, where 
they would not be interrupted. 

“Now, Gascoigne,” observed Jack, “you guess what 
I’m about — I must shoot that rascal this very morning, 
and that’s why I came out with you.” 

“But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must 
shoot him, and not you ; he is my property, for I found 
him out.” 

“We’ll argue that point,” replied Jack; “he has at- 
tempted the life of my is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, 
and, therefore, I have the best claim to him.” 

“I beg your pardon, Jack, he is mine, for I discovered 
him. Now, let me put a case: suppose one man, walking 
several yards before another, picks up a purse ; what claim 
has the other to it? I found him, and not you.” 

“That’s all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse 
you picked up to be mine, then I have a right to it, al- 
though you found it; he is my bird by right, and not 
yours.” 

“But I have another observation to make, which is 
very important; he is a blood relation of Agnes, and if his 
blood is on your hands, however much he may deserve it, 
depend upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle to your 
union; think of that.” 

Jack paused in thought. 

“And let me induce you by another remark — you will 
confer on me a most particular favor.” 

“It will be the greatest I ever could,” replied Jack, 
“and you ought to be eternally indebted to me.” 


262 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“I trust to make him eternally indebted to me,” replied 
Gascoigne. 

Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon 
what their share of the prize-money may be, before a shot 
is fired — our two midshipmen appear in this instance to 
be doing the same. 

The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack 
went to the inn where Don Silvio had mentioned that he 
had taken up his quarters, and sending up his card, fol- 
lowed the waiter upstairs. The waiter opened the door 
and presented the card. 

“Very well,” replied Don Silvio, “you can go down 
and show him up.” 

Jack, hearing these words, did not wait, but walked in, 
where he found Don Silvio very busy removing a hone, 
upon which he had been whetting a sharp, double-edged 
stiletto. The Sicilian walked up to him, offering his 
hand with apparent cordiality ; but Jack, with a look of 
defiance, said, “Don Silvio, we know you; my object now 
is to demand, on the part of my friend, the satisfaction 
which you do not deserve, but which our indignation at 
your second attempt upon Don Bebiera induces us to 
offer; for if you escape from him you will have to do with 
me. On the whole, Don Silvio, you may think yourself 
fortunate, for it is better to die by the hands of a gentle- 
man than by the gibbet.” 

Don Silvio turned deadly pale — his hand sought his 
stiletto in his bosom, but it was remaining on the table; 
at last he replied, “Be it so — I will meet you when and 
where you please, in an hour from this.” 

Jack mentioned the place of meeting, and then walked 
out of the room. He and Gascoigne then hastened to the 
quarters of an officer they were intimate with, and hav- 
ing provided themselves with the necessary firearms, were 
at the spot before the time. They waited for him till the 
exact time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance. 

“He’s off,” observed Gascoigne; “the villain has es- 
caped us.” 

Half an hour over the time had passed, and still there 
was no sign of Gascoigne’s antagonist, but one of the gov- 
ernor’s aids-de-camp was seen walking up to them. 

“Here’s Atkins,” observed Jack; “that’s unlucky, but 
he won’t interfere.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 


“Gentlemen,” said Atkins, taking off his hat with 
much solemnity, “the governor particularly wishes to 
speak to you both.” 

“We can’t come iust now — we’ll be there in half an 
hour.” 

“You must be there in three minutes, both of you. 
Excuse me, my orders are positive — and to see them duly 
executed I have a corporal and a file of men behind that 
wall — of course, if you walk with me quietly there will be 
no occasion to send for their assistance.” 

“This is confounded tyranny,” cried Jack. “Well 
may they call him King Tom.” 

“Yes,” replied Atkins, “and he governs here in rey 
absoluto — so come along.” 

Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to 
the government house, where they found Sir Thomas in 
the veranda, which commanded a view of the harbor and 
offing. 

“Come here, young gentlemen,” said the governor in a 
severe tone; “do you see that vessel about two miles clear 
of the port? Don Silvio is in it, going back to Sicily un- 
der a guard. And now remember what I say as a maxim 
through life. Fight with gentlemen, if you must fight, 
but not with villains and murderers. By consenting to 
fight with a blackguard , you as much disparage your cloth 
and compromise your own characters as by refusing to 
give satisfaction to a gentleman. There, go away, for I’m 
angry with you, and don’t let me see you till dinner- 
time.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO SEES A LITTLE MORE SERVICE, 
AND IS BETTER EMPLOYED THAN IN FIGHTING DON 
SILVIO. 

But before they met the governor at his table, a sloop 
of war arrived from the fleet with dispatches from the 
commander-in-chief. Those to Captain Wilson required 
him to make all possible haste in fitting, and then to pro- 


264 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


ceed and cruise off Corsica, to fall in with a Kussian 
frigate which was on that coast; if not there, to obtain 
intelligence, and to follow her wherever she might be. 

All was now bustle and activity on board of the Aurora. 
Captain Wilson, with our hero and, Gascoigne, quitted the 
governor’s house and repaired on board, where they re- 
mained day and night. On the third day, the Aurora was 
complete and ready for sea, and about noon sailed out of 
Valette harbor. 

In a week the Aurora had gained the coast of Corsica, 
and there was no need of sending lookout men to the 
mast-head, for one of the officers or midshipmen was there 
from daylight to dark. She ran up the coast to the north- 
ward without seeing the object of her pursuit or obtaining 
any intelligence. 

Calms and light airs detained them for a few days, 
when a northerly breeze enabled them to run down the 
eastern side of the island. It was on the eighteenth day 
after they had quitted Malta that a large vessel was seen 
ahead about eighteen miles off. The. men were then at 
breakfast. 

“A frigate, Captain Wilson, I’m sure of it,” said Mr. 
Hawkins, the chaplain, whose anxiety induced him to go 
to the mast-head. 

x “How is she steering?” 

“The same way as we are.” 

The Aurora was under all possible sail, and when the 
hands were piped to dinner, it was thought that they had 
neared the chase about two miles. 

“This will be a long chase, a stern chase always is,” 
observed Martin to Gascoigne. 

, “Yes, I’m afraid so— but I’m more afraid of her es- 
caping.” 

“That’s not unlikely either,” replied the mate. 

“You are one of Job’s comforters, Martin,” replied Gas- 
coigne. 

“Then I’m not so often disappointed,” replied the 
mate. “There are two points to be ascertained; the first 

is, whether we shall come up with the vessel or lose her 

the next is, if we do come up with her, whether she ' is 
the vessel we are looking for.” 

“You seem very indifferent about it.” 

“Indeed I am not; I am the oldest passed midshipman 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


£65 


in the ship, and the taking of the frigate will, if I live, 
give me my promotion, and if I’m killed, I shan’t want 
it. But I’ve been so often disappointed that I now make 
sure of nothing until I have it.’ 

“Well, for your sake, Martin, I will still hope that the 
vessel is the one we seek, that we shall not be killed, and 
that you will gain your promotion.” 

“I thank you, Easy— I wish I was one that dared hope 
as you do.” 

Poor Martin ! he had long felt how bitter it was to 
meet disappointment upon disappointment. How true 
it is, that hope deferred maketh the heart sick! and 
his anticipations of early days, the buoyant calculations 
of youth, had been one by one crushed, and now, having 
served his time nearly three times over, the reaction had 
become too painful, and as he truly said, he dared not 
hope; still, his temper was not soured, but chastened. 

“She has hauled her wind, sir,” hailed the second lieu- 
tenant from the topmast cross-trees. 

“What think you of that, Martin?” observed Jack. 

“Either that she is an English frigate, or that she is 
a vessel commanded by a very brave fellow, and well 
manned.” 

It was sunset before the Aurora had arrived within two 
miles of the vessel; the private signal had been thrown 
out, but had not been answered, either because it was too 
dark to make out the colors of the flags, or that these were 
unknown to an enemy. The stranger had hoisted the 
English colors, but that was no satisfactory proof of her 
being a friend; and just before dark she had put her head 
toward the Aurora, who had now come stem down to her. 
The ship’s company of the Aurora were all at their quar- 
ters, as a few minutes would now decide whether they had 
to deal with a friend or foe. 

There is no situation perhaps more difficult, and de- 
manding so much caution, as the occasional meeting with 
a doubtful ship. On the one hand, it being necessary to 
be fully prepared and not allow the enemy the advantage 
which may be derived from your inaction ; and on the other, 
the necessity of prudence, that you may not assault your 
friends and countrymen. Captain Wilson had hoisted the 

E rivate night-signal, but here again it was difficult, from 
is sails intervening, for the other ship to make it out. 


266 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


Before the two frigates were within three cables’ lengths 
of each other, Captain Wilson, determined that there 
should be no mistake from any want of precaution on his 
part, hauled up his courses and brailed up his driver, that 
the night-signal might he clearly seen. 

Lights were seen abaft on the quarter-deck of the other 
vessel, as if they were about to answer, but she continued 
to keep the Aurora to leeward . at about half a cable’s 
length, and as the foremost guns of each vessel were 
abreast of each other, hailed in English. 

“Ship ahoy! what ship’s that?” 

“His majesty’s ship Aurora,” replied Captain Wilson, 
who stood on the hammocks. “What ship’s that?” 

By this time the other frigate had passed half her 
length clear of the beam of the Aurora, and at the same 
time that a pretended reply of “his majesty’s ship” was 
heard, a broadside from her guns, which had been trained 
aft on purpose, was poured into the Aurora, and, at so short 
a distance, doing considerable execution. The crew of 
the Aurora, hearing the hailing in English, and the vessel 
passing them apparently without firing, had imagined that 
she had been one of their own cruisers. The captains of 
the guns had dropped their lanyards in disappointment, 
and the silence which had been maintained as the two 
vessels met was just breaking up in various ways of lam- 
entation at their bad luck, when the broadside was poured 
in, thundering in their ears, and the ripping and tearing 
of the beams and planks astonished their senses. Many 
were carried down below, but it was difficult to say 
whether indignation at the enemy’s ruse, or satisfaction 
at discovering that they were not called to quarters in 
vain, most predominated. At all events, it was answered 
by three voluntary cheers, which drowned the cries of 
those who were being assisted to the cockpit. 

“Man the larboard guns and about ship!” cried Captain 
Wilson, leaping off the hammocks. “Look out, my lads, 
and rake her in stays ! We’ll pay him off for that foul 
play before we’ve done with him. Look out, my lads, and 
take good aim as she pays round.” 

The Aurora was put about, and her broadside poured 
into the stern of the Russian frigate — for such she was. 
It was almost dark, but the enemy, who appeared as 
anxious as the Aurora to come to action, hauled up her 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


267 


courses to await her coming up. In five minutes the two 
vessels were alongside, exchanging murderous broad- 
sides at little more than pistol-shot — running slowly in for 
the land, then not more than five miles distant. The 
skin-clad mountaineers of Corsica were aroused by the 
furious cannonading, watching the incessant flashes of the 
guns, and listening to their reverberating roar. 

After half an hour’s fierce combat, during which the 
fire of both vessels was kept up with undimihished vigor, 
Captain Wilson went down on the main deck, and himself 
separately pointed each gun after it was loaded ; those 
amidships being direct for the main-channels of the 
enemy’s ship, while those abaft the beam were gradually 
trained more and more forward, and those before the 
beam more and more aft, so as to throw all their, shot 
nearly into one focus, giving directions that they were all 
to be fired at once, at the word of command. The enemy, 
not aware of the cause of the delay, imagined that the fire 
of the Aurora had slackened, and loudly cheered. At the 
word given, the broadside was poured in, and, dark as it 
was, the effects from it were evident. Two of the mid- 
ships ports of the antagonist were blown into one, and 
her main-mast was seen to totter, and then to fall over the 
side. The Aurora then set her courses, which had been 
hauled up, and shooting ahead, took up a raking position 
while the Russian was still hampered with her wreck, and 
poured in grape and canister from her upper deck carro- 
nades to impede their labors on deck, while she continued 
her destructive fire upon the hull of the enemy from the 
main-deck battery. 

The moon now burst out from a low hank of clouds, and 
enabled them to accomplish their work with more pre- 
cision. In a quarter of an hour the Russian was totally 
dismasted, and Captain Wilson ordered half of his remain- 
ing ship’s company to repair the damages, which had been 
most severe, while the larboard men at quarters con- 
tinued the fire from the main deck. The enemy con- 
tinued to return the fire from four guns, two on each of 
her decks, which she could still make bear upon the 
Aurora; but after some time even these ceased, either 
from the men having deserted them, or from their being 
dismounted. Observing that the fire from her antagonist 
had ceased, the Aurora also discontinued, and the jolly 


268 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST . 


boat astern being still uninjured, the second lieutenant 
was deputed to pull alongside of the frigate to ascertain if 
she had struck. 

The beams of the bright moon silvered the rippling 
water as the boat shoved off:; and Captain Wilson and his 
officers who were still unhurt leaned over the shattered 
sides of the Aurora, waiting for a reply: suddenly the 
silence of the night was broken upon by a loud splash from 
the bows of the Russian frigate, then about three cables’ 
lengths distant. 

“What could that be?” cried Captain Wilson. “Her 
anchor’s down. Mr. Jones, a lead over the side, and see 
what water we have.” 

Mr. Jones had long been carried down below, severed 
in two with a round shot — but a man leaped into the 
chains, and lowering down the lead, sounded in seven 
fathoms. 

“Then I suspect he will give us more trouble yet,” ob- 
served Captain Wilson; and so indeed it proved, for the 
Russian captain, in reply to the second lieutenant, had 
told him in English that “he would answer that question 
with his broadside,” and before the boat was dropped 
astern, he had warped round with the springs on his 
cable, and had recommenced his fire upon the Aurora. 

Captain Wilson made sail upon his ship, and sailed 
round and round the anchored vessel, so as to give her 
two broadsides to her one, and from the slowness with 
which she worked at her springs upon her cables, it was 
evident that she must be now very weak-handed. Still 
the pertinacity and decided courage of the Russian cap- 
tain convinced Captain Wilson that, in all probability, he 
would sink at his anchor before he would haul down his 
colors; and not only would he lose more of the Aurora’s 
men, but also the Russian vessel without he took a more 
decided step. Captain Wilson, therefore, resolved to try 
her by the board. Having poured in a raking fire, he 
stood off for a few moments, during which he called the 
officers and men on deck, and stated his intention. lie 
then went about, and himself conning the Aurora, ran 
her on board the Russian, pouring in his reserved broad- 
side as the vessels came into collision, and heading his 
men as they leaped on the enemy’s decks. 

Although, as Captain Wilson had imagined, the Russian 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY , 


269 


frigate had not many men to oppose to the Aurora’s, the 
deck was obstinately defended, the voice and the arm of 
the Russian captain were to be heard and seen everywhere, 
and his men, encouraged by him, were cut down by num- 
bers where they stood. 

Our hero, who had the good fortune to be still unhurt, 
was for a little while close to Captain Wilson when he 
boarded, and was about to oppose his unequal force against 
that of the Russian captain, when he was pulled back by 
the collar by Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain, who rushed in 
advance with a saber in his hand. The opponents were 
well matched, and it may be said that with little interrup- 
tion, a hand-to-hand conflict ensued, for the moon lighted 
up the scene of carnage, and they were well able to dis- 
tinguish each other’s faces. At last, the chaplain’s sword 
broke; he rushed in, drove the hilt into his antagonist’s 
face, closed with him, and they both fell down the hatch- 
way together. After this, the deck was gained, or rather 
cleared, by the crew of the Aurora, for few could be said 
to have resisted, and in a minute or two the frigate was in 
their possession. The chaplain and the Russian captain 
were hoisted up, still clinging to each other, both sense- 
less from the fall, but neither of them dead, although 
bleeding from several wounds. 

As soon as the main-deck had been cleared, Captain 
Wilson ordered the hatches to be put on, and left a party 
on board while he hastened to attend to the condition of 
his own ship and ship’s company. 

It was daylight before anything like order had been re- 
stored to the decks of the Aurora; the water was still 
smooth, and instead of letting go her own anchor, she had 
hung on with a hawser to the prize, but her sails had been 
furled, her decks cleared, guns secured, and the buckets 
were dashing away the blood from her planks and the 
carriages of the guns, when the sun rose and shone upon 
them. The numerous wounded had, by this time, been 
put into their hammocks, although there were still one or 
two cases of amputation to be performed. 

The carpenter had repaired all shot-holes under or too 
near to the water-line, and then had proceeded to sound 
the well of the prize; but although her upper works had 
been dreadfully shattered, there was no reason to suppose 
that she had received any serious injury below, and there- 


270 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


fore the hatches still remained on, although a few hands 
were put to the pumps to try if she made any water. It 
was not until the Aurora presented a more cheerful ap- 
pearance that Captain Wilson went over to the other ship, 
whose deck, now that the light of heaven enabled them to 
witness all the horrors even to minuteness, presented a 
shocking spectacle of blood and carnage. Body after body 
was thrown over; the wounded were supplied with water 
and such assistance as could be rendered until the sur- 
geons could attend them; the hatches were then taken 
off, and the remainder of her crew ordered on deck; about 
two hundred obeyed the summons, but the lower deck 
was as crowded with killed and wounded as was the upper. 
For the present the prisoners were handed over down into 
the forehold of the Aurora which had been prepared for 
their reception, and the work of separation of the dead 
from the living was then commenced. After this, such 
repairs as were immediately necessary were made, and a 
portion of the Aurora's crew, under the orders of the 
second lieutenant, were sent on board to take charge of 
her. It was not till the evening of the day after this 
night conflict that the Aurora was in a situation to make 
sail. All hands were then sent on board of the Trident, 
for such was the name of the Russian frigate, to fit her 
out as ’soon as possible. Before morning — for there was 
no relaxation from their fatigue, nor was there any wish 
for it — all was completed, and the? two frigates, although 
in a shattered condition, were prepared to meet any com- 
mon conflict with the elements. The Aurora made sail 
with the Trident in tow; the hammocks were allowed to 
be taken down, and the watch below permitted to repose. 

In this murderous conflict the Trident had more than 
two hundred men killed and wounded. The Aurora’s 
loss had not been so great, but still it was severe, having 
lost sixty-five men and officers. Among the fallen there 
were Mr. Jones, the master, the third lieutenant, Mr. 
Arkwright, and two midshipmen killed. Mr. Pottyfar, 
the first lieutenant, severely wounded at the commence- 
ment of the action. Martin, the master’s mate, and Gas- 
coigne, the first mortally, and the second badly, wounded. 
Oui hero had also received a slight cutlass wound, which 
obliged him to wear his arm, for a short time, in a sling. 

Among the ship’s company, who were wounded was 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


271 


Mesty; he had been hurt with a splinter before the Tri- 
dent was taken by the board, but had remained on deck, 
and had followed our hero, watching over him and pro- 
tecting him as a father. He had done even more, for he 
had with Jack thrown himself before Captain Wilson, at 
a time that he had received such a blow with the flat of a 
sword as to stun him, and bring him down on his knees. 
And Jack had taken good care that Captain Wilson 
should not he ignorant, as he really would have been, of 
this timely service on the part of Mesty, who certainly, 
although with a great deal of sang-froid in his composition 
when in repose, was a fiend incarnate when his blood was 
up. 

“But you must haye been with Mesty, ” observed Cap- 
tain Wilson, “when he did me the service.” 

“I was with him, sir,” replied Jack, with great mod- 
esty; “but was of very little service.” 

“How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?” 

“Oh, not very bad, sir — he wants a glass of grog.” 

“And Mr. Martin?” 

Jack shook his head. 

“Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well.” 

“Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was 
very well to give him hope — but that he thought other- 
wise.” 

“You must manage him, Mr. Easy; tell him that he is 
sure of his promotion.” 

“I have, sir, but he won’t believe it. He never will 
believe it till he has his commission signed. I really 
think that an acting order would do more than the doctor 
can.” 

“Well, Mr. Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. 
Have you seen Mr. Pottyfar? he, I am afraid, is very 
bad.” 

“Very bad, sir; and they say he is worse every day, 
and yet his wound is healthy, and ought to be doing well.” 

Such was the conversation between Jack and his cap- 
tain, as they as sat breakfast on the third morning after 
the action . 

The next day Easy took down an acting order for Mar- 
tin, and put it into his hands. The mate read it over as 
he lay bandaged in his hammock. 

“It’s only an acting order, Jack,” said hie; “it may not 

confirmed*” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 

Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be; 
but Martin replied that he was sure it never would. 

“No, no,” said the mate, “I knew very well that I 
never should be made. If it is not confirmed, I may live; 
but if it is, I am sure to die.” 

Every one that went to Martin’s hammock wished him 
joy of his promotion; but six days after the action, poor 
Martin’s remains were consigned to the deep. 

The next person who followed him was Mr. Pottyfar, 
the first lieutenant, who had contrived, wounded as he 
was, to reach a packet of the Universal Medicine, and had 
taken so many bottles before he was found out that he 
was one morning found dead in his bed, with more than 
two dozen empty phials under his pillow and by the side 
of his mattress. He was not buried with his hands in his 
pockets, but when sewed up in his hammock, they were, 
at all events, laid in the right position. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

MODERN PHILANTHROPY, WHICH, AS USUAL, IS THE 
CAUSE OF MUCH TROUBLE AND VEXATION. 

In three weeks the Aurora, with her prize in tow, 
arrived at Malta. The wounded were sent to the hospital, 
and the gallant Russian captain recovered from his wounds 
about the same time as Mr. Hawkins, the chaplain. 

Jack, who constantly called to see the chaplain, had a 
great deal to do to console him. He would shake his hands \ 
as he lay in his bed, exclaiming against himself. “Oh,” 
would he say, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. 
That I, a man of God, as they term me, who ought to 
have been down with the surgeons whispering comfort to 
the desponding, should have gone on deck (but I could 
not help it), and have mixed in such a scene of slaughter I 
What will become of me?” 

Jack attempted to console him by pointing out that not 
only chaplains, but bishops, have been known to fight in 
armor from time immemorial. But Mr. Hawkins’ re- 
covery was long doubtful, from the agitation of his mind* 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


273 

When he was able to walk, Jack introduced him to the 
Russian captain, who was also just out of his bed. 

“I am most happy to embrace so gallant an officer/’ 
said the Russian, who recognized his antagonist, throwing 
his arms round the chaplain, and giving him a kiss on 
both cheeks. “What is his rank?” continued he, address- 
ing himself to Jack, who replied, very quietly, that “he 
was the ship’s padre.” 

“The padre!” replied the captain, with surprise as 
Hawkins turned away with confusion. “The padre — par 
example! Well, I always had a great respect for the 
Church. Pray, sir,” said he, turning to Easy, “do your 
padres always head your boarders?” 

“Always, sir,” replied Jack; “it’s a rule of the service 
— and the duty of a padre to show the men the way to 
heaven. It’s our ninety-ninth article of war.” 

“You are a fighting nation,” replied the Russian, bow- 
ing to Hawkins, and continuing his walk, not exactly 
pleased that he had been floored by a parson. 

Mr. Hawkins continued very disconsolate for some 
time; he then invalided, and applied himself to his duties 
on shore, where he would not be exposed to such temp- 
tations from his former habits. 

As the Aurora, when she was last at Malta, had nearly 
exhausted the dockyard for her repairs, she was even 
longer fitting out this time, during which Captain Wil- 
son’s dispatches had been received by the admiral, and 
had been acknowledged by a brig sent to Malta. The 
admiral, in reply, after complimenting him upon his gal- 
lantry and success, desired that, as soon as he was ready, 
he, should proceed to Palermo with communications of 
importance to the authorities, and having remained there 
for an answer, was again to return to Malta to pick up 
such of his men as might be fit to leave the hospital, and 
then join the Toulon fleet. This intelligence was soon 
known to our hero, who was in ecstasies at the idea of 
again seeing Agnes and her brothers. Once more the 
Aurora sailed away from the high-crowned rocks of Va- 
lette, and with a fine breeze dashed through the deep blue 
waves. 

But toward the evening the breeze increased, and they 
were under double-reefed topsails. On the second day 
they made tiie coast of Sicily, not far from where Easy 


274 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


and Gascoigne had been driven on shore; the weather was 
then more moderate, and the sea had, to a great degree, 
subsided. They, therfore, stood in close to the coast, as 
they had not a leading wind to Palermo. As they stood 
in the glasses, as usual, were directed to land, observing 
the villas with which the hills and valleys were studded, 
with their white fronts embowered in orange groves. 

“What is that, Gascoigne,” said Easy, “under that 
precipice? — it looks like a vessel.” 

Gascoigne turned his glass in the direction — “Yes, it is 
a vessel on the rocks; by her prow she looks like a galley.” 

“It is a galley, sir — one of the row galleys — I can make 
out her bank of oars,” observed the signal man. 

This was reported to Captain Wilson, who also examined 
her. 

“She is on the rocks, certainly,” observed he; “and 
I think I see people on board. Keep her away a point, 
quartermaster.” 

The Aurora was now steered right for the vessel, and 
in the course of an hour was not more than a mile from 
her. Their suppositions were correct — it was one of the 
Sicilian government galleys bilged on the rocks, and they 
now perceived that there were people on board of her, 
making signals with their shirts and pieces of linen. 

“They must be the galley-slaves; for I perceive that 
they do not one of them change their positions; the galley 
must have been abandoned by the officers and seamen, and 
the slaves left to perish.” 

“That’s very hard,” oberved Jack to Gascoigne; “they 
were condemned to the galleys, but not to death.” 

“They will not have much mercy from the waves,” re- 
plied Gascoigne; “they will all be in kingdom come to- 
morrow morning, if the breeze comes more on the land. 
We have already come up two points this forenoon.” 

Although Captain Wilson did not join in this conver- 
sation, which he overheard as he stood on the forecastle 
gun, with his glass over the hammocks, it appears he was 
of the same opinion; but he demurred: he had to choose 
between allowing so many of his fellow-creatures to perish 
miserably, or to let loose upon society a set of miscreants, 
who would again enter a course of crime until they were 
recaptured, and, by so doing, probably displease the 
Sicilian authorities. After some little reflection, he re- 


mh. midshipman hast. 




Solved that he would take his chance of the latter. The 
Aurora was hove-to in stays, and the two cutters ordered 
to be lowered down, and the boat’s crew to be armed. 

“Mr. Easy, do you take one cutter, and the armorers; 
pull on board of the galley, release those people, and land 
them in small divisions. Mr. Gascoigne, you will take 
I the other to assist Mr. Easy, and when he lands them in 
his boat, you will pull by his side ready to act, in case of 
any hostile attempt on the part of the scoundrels; for we 
must not expect gratitude; of course, land them at the 
nearest safe spot for debarkation.” 

In pursuance of these orders, our two midshipmen 
pulled away to the vessel. They found her fixed hard 
upon the rocks, which had pierced her slight timbers, and, 
as they had supposed, the respectable part of her crew, 
with the commander, had taken to the boats, leaving the 
galley-slaves to their fate. She pulled fifty oars, but had 
only thirty-six manned. These oars were forty feet long, 
and ran in from the thole-pin with a loom six feet long, 
each manned by four slaves, who were chained to their 
seat before it, by a running chain made fast by a padlock 
in amidships. A plank of two feet wide ran fore and aft 
the vessel, between the two banks of oars, for the boat- 
swain to apply to the lash to those who did not sufficiently 
exert themselves. 

“ Viva los Inglesos ,” cried the galley-slaves as Easy 
climbed up over the quarter of the vessel. 

“I say, Ned, did you ever see such a precious set of 
villains?” observed Easy as he surveyed the faces of the 
men who were chained. 

“No,” replied Gascoigne; “and I think if the captain 
'had seen them as we have, that he would have left them 
where they were.” 

“I don’t know; but, however, our orders are positive. 
Armorer, knock off all the padlocks, beginning aft; 
when we have a cargo we will land them. How many 
are there? — twelve dozen — twelve dozen villains to let 
loose upon society. I have a great mind to go on board 
again and report my opinion to the captain — one hundred 
and forty-four villains who all deserve hanging, for drown- 
ing is too good for them.” 

“Our orders are to liberate them, Jack.” 

“Yes; but I should like to argue this point with Cap 

tain Wilson.” 




MB. MIDSHIPMAN &A8t. 


“They’ll send after them fast enough, Jack, and they’ll 
all be in limbo again before long,” replied Gascoigne. 

“Well, I suppose we must obey orders; but it goes 
against my conscience to save such villainous-looking 
rascals. Armorer, hammer away.” 

The armorer, who, with the seamen, appeared very 
much of Jack’s opinion, and had not commenced his 
work, now struck off the padlocks, one by one, with his 
sledge-hammer. As soon as they were released, the slaves 
were ordered into the cutter, and when it was sufficiently 
loaded Jack shoved off, followed by Gascoigne as guard, 
and landed them at the point about a cable’s length dis- 
tant. It required six trips before they were all landed : 
the last cargo were on shore, and Easy was desiring the 
men to shove off, when one of the gallerians turned round, 
and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, “ Addio, signor , 
a revederla .” Jack started, stared, and, in the squalid, 
naked wretch who addressed him, he recognized Don 
Silvio! 

“I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,” 
said the miscreant, springing up the rock, and mixing 
with the rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing 
at their preservers. 

“Ned,” observed Easy to Gascoigne, “we have let that 
rascal loose.” 

“More’s the pity,” replied Gascoigne; “but we have 
only obeyed orders.” 

“It can’t be helped; but I’ve a notion there will be 
some mischief out of this.” 

“We obeyed orders,” replied Gascoigne. 

“We’ve let the rascals loose not ten miles from Don 
^Rebi era’s.” 

/ “Obeyed orders, Jack.” 

“With a whole gang to back him, if he goes there.” 

“Orders, Jack.” 

“Agnes at his mercy.” 

“Captain’s orders, Jack.” 

“I shall argue this point when I go on board,” replied 
Jack. 

“Too late, Jack.” 

“Yes,” replied Easy, sinking down on the stern-sheeta 
with a look of despair. 

“Give way, my lads, give way.’ 5 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN BAST. 


%17 

Jack returned on board and reported tv hat be had done^. 
also that Don Silvio was among those liberated; and he 
ventured to mention his fears of what might take plac^ 
from their contiguity to the house of Don Rebiera. Cap- 
tain Wilson bit his lips; he felt that his philanthropy had 
induced him to act without his usual prudence. 

“I have done a rash thing, Mr. Easy, I am afraid. 1 
should have taken them all on board, and delivered them 
up to the authorities. I wish I had thought of that be 
fore. We must get to Palermo as fast as we can, and have 
the troops sent after these miscreants. Hands ’bout 
ship; fill the main-yard!” 

The wind had veered round, and the Aurora was now 
able to lay up clear of the island of Maritimo. The next 
morning she anchored in Palermo Roads ; gave immediate 
notice to the authorities, who, wishing Captain Wilson’s 
philanthropy at the devil, immediately dispatched a large 
body of troops in quest of the liberated malefactors. 
Captain Wilson, feeling for Jack’s anxiety about his 
friends, called him over to him on deck, and gave him 
and Cascoigne permission to go on shore. 

“Will you allow me to take Mesty with me, sir, if you 
please?” said Jack. 

“Yes, Mr. Easy; but recollect that even with Mesty, 
you are no match for one hundred and fifty men, so be 
prudent. I send you to relieve your anxiety, not to run 
into danger.” 

“Of course, sir,” replied Jack, touching his hat, and 
walking away quietly, till he came to the hatchway, when 
he darted down like a shot, and was immediately occupied 
with his preparations. 

In half an hour our two midshipmen, with Mesty, had 
landed, and proceeded to the inn where they had put up 
before; they were armed up to the teeth. Their first in- 
quiries were for Don Philip and his brother. 

“Both on leave of absence,” replied the landlord, “and 
staying with Don Reibera.” 

“That’s some comfort,” thought Jack. “Now we 
must get horses as fast as we can. Mesty, can you ride?” 

“By all de power, can I ride, Massa Easy? suppose you 
ride Kentucky horse, you ride any ting.” 

In half an hour four horses and a guide were procured, 
and at eight o’clock in the morning, the party set off in 
the direction of Don Rebiera’s country-seat. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST , 


m 

They had not ridden more than six miles when they 
came up with one of the detachments sent out in pursuit 
of the liberated criminals. Our hero recognized the com- 
manding officer as an old acquaintance, and imparting 
to him the release of Don Silvio, and his fears upon Don 
Rebiera’s account, begged him to direct his attention that 
way. 

“ Corpo di Bacco — you are right, Signor Mid,” replied 
the officer. “But Don Philip is there, and his brother 
too, I believe. I will be there by ten o’clock to-morrow 
morning; we will march almost the whole night.” 

“They have no arms,” observed Easy. 

“No, but they will soon get them; they will go to some 
small town in a body, plunder it, and then seek the pro- 
tection of the mountains. Your captain has given us a 
pretty job.” 

Jack exchanged a few more words, and then, excusing 
himself on account of his haste, put the spurs to his horse 
and regained his own party, who now proceeded at a rapid 
pace. 

“Oh, signor!” said theguide, “we shall kill thehorses.” 

“I’ll pay for them,” said Jack. 

“Yes, but we shall kill them before we get there, 
Jack,” replied Gascoigne, “and have to walk the rest of 
the way.” 

“Very true, Ned; let’s pull up and give them their 
wind.” 

“By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but my shirt stick to 
my ribs,” cried Mesty, whose black face was hung with 
dewdrops from their rapid course. 

“Never mind, Mesty.” 

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when they 
arrived at the seat of Don Rebiera. Jack threw himself 
olf his jaded steed and hastened into the house, followed 
by Gascoigne. They found the whole family colllected in 
the large sitting-room, quite ignorant of any danger 
threatening them, aim equally astonished and pleased at 
the arrival of their old friends. Jack flew to Agnes, who 
screamed when she saw him, and felt so giddy afterward 
that he was obliged to support her. Having seated her 
again, he was kindly greeted by the old people and the 
iwo young officers. After a few minutes dedicated to 
mutual inquiries, our hero stated the cause of their ex- 
peditious arrival. 


Mtt. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


m 

“Don Silvio with one hundred and fifty gallerians let 
loose on the coast yesterday afternoon !” exclaimed Don 
Eebiera; “you are right; I only wonder they were not 
here last night. But I expect Pedro from the town; he 
has gone down with a load of wine; he will bring us 
intelligence.” 

“At all events, we must be prepared,” said Don Philip; 
“the troops, you say, will be here to-morrow morning.” 1 

“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the ladies in a breath. 

“How many can we muster?” said Gascoigne. 

“We have five men here, or we shall have by the even- 
ing,” replied Don Philip — “all, I think, good men — my 
father, my brother, and myself.” 

“We are three — four with the guide, whom I know 
nothing about.” 

“Twelve in all — not one too many; but I think that 
now we are prepared, if they attack, we can hold out till 
the morning.” 

“Had we not better send the ladies away?” said Jack. 

“Who is to escort them?” replied Don Philip; “we 
shall only weaken our force: besides, they may fall into 
the miscreants’ hands.” 

“Shall we all leave the house together? they can but 
plunder it,” observed Don Eebiera. 

“Still, we may be intercepted by them, and our whole 
force wiil be nothing against so many,” observed Don 
Philip, “if we are without defense, whereas in the house 
we shall have an advantage.” 

“ Evero ,” replied Don Eebiera thoughtfully ; “then let 
us prepare, for depend upon it, Don Silvio will not lose 
such an opportunity to wreak his vengeance. He will be 
here to-night. I only wonder he has not been here with 
his companions before. However, Pedro will arrive in 
two hours.” 

“We must now see what means we have of defense,” 
said Philip. “Come, brother — will you come, sir?” 


m 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

A REGfULAR SET-TO, IN WHICH THE PARTIES BEATEN 
ARE NOT KNOCKED DOWN, BUT RISE HIGHER AND 
HIGHER AT EACH DISCOMFITURE — NOTHING BUT THE 
TROOPS COULD HAVE PREVENTED THEM FROM GOING 
UP TO HEAVEN. 

Don Rebiera and his two sons quitted the room, Gas- 
coigne entered into conversation with the senora, while 
Easy took this opportunity of addressing Agnes. He had 
been too much occupied with the consultation to pay her 
much atttention before. He had spoken, with his eyes 
fixed upon her, and had been surprised at the improve- 
ment which had taken place in less than a year. He now 
went to her and asked her in a low voice whether she 
had received his letter.” 

“Oh, yes!” replied she, coloring. 

“And were you angry with what I said, Agnes?” in a 
low tone. 

“No,” replied she, casting her eyes down on the floor. 

“I repeat now what I said, Agnes — I have never for* 
gotten vou.” 

“But ” 

“But what?” 

“Father Thomaso.” 

“What of him?” 

“He never will 99 

“Will what?” 

' “You are a heretic, he says.” 

“Tell him to mind his own business.” 

“He has great influence with my father and mother.” 

“Your brothers are on our side.” 

“I know that, but there will be great difficulty. Our 
religion is not the same. H« must talk to you— he will 
convert you.” 

“We’ll argue that point, Agnes. I will convert him if 
he has common sense; if not, it’s no use arguing with 
him. Where is he?” 

“He will soon be at home.” 

“Tell me, Agnes, if you had your own will, would you 
marry me?” 


Mlt. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


281 


“I don’t know; I have never seen any one I liked so 
well.” 

“Is that all?” 

“Is it not enough for a maiden to say?” replied Agnes, 
raising her eyes, and looking reproachfully. “Signor, let 
me go, here comes my father.” 

Notwithstanding, Jack cast his eyes to the window 
where Gascoigne and the senora were in converse, and 
perceiving that the old lady’s back was turned, he pressed 
Agnes to his bosom before he released her. The gentle- 
men then returned with all the firearms and destructive 
weapons they could collect. 

“We have enough,” observed Don Philip, “to arm all 
the people we have with us.” 

“And we are well armed,” replied Jack, who had left 
Agnes standing alone. “What now are your plans?” 

“Those we must now consult about. It appears” — but 
at this moment the conversation was interrupted by the 
sudden entrance of Pedro, who had been dispatched to 
the town with the load of wine. He rushed in, flurried 
and heated, with his red cap in his hand. 

“How now, Pedro, back so early!” 

“Oh, signor !” exclaimed the man — “they have taken 
the cart and the wine, and have drawn it away, up to the 
mountains.” 

“Who?” inquired Don Rebiera. 

“The galley-slaves who have been let loose — and by the 
body of our blessed saint, they have done pretty mischief 
— they have broken into the houses, robbed everything — 
murdered many — clothed themselves with the best — col- 
lected all the arms, provisions, and wine they could lay 
their hands on, and have marched away into the moun- 
tains. This took place last night. As I was coming 
down within a mile from the town, they met me with my 
loaded cart, and they turned the bullocks round and drove 
them away along with the rest. By the blessed Virgin ! 
but they are stained with blood, but not altogether of 
men, for they have cut up some of the oxen. I heard this 
from one of the herdsmen, but he too fled and could not 
tell me more. But, signor, I heard them mention your 
name.” 

“I have no doubt of it,” replied Don Rebiera. “As for 
the wine, I only hope they will drink too much of it to- 


m 


MB. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


night. But, Pedro, they will be here, and we must defend 
ourselves — so call the men together; I must speak to 
them.” 

‘ ‘We shall never see the bullocks again,” observed Pedro 
mournfully. 

“No; but we shall never see one another again v if we 
do not take care. I have information they come here to- 
night.” 

“Holy Saint Francis! &nd they say there are a thousand 
of them.” 

“Not quite so many, to my knowledge,” observed Jack. 

“They told me that a great many were killed in their 
attack upon the town, before they mastered it.” 

“So much the better. Go now, Pedro, drink a cup of 
wine, and then call the other men.” 

The house was barricaded as well as circumstances 
would permit ; the first story was also made a fortress 
by loading the landing-place with armoires and chests of 
drawers. The upper story, or attic, if it might be so 
called, was defended in the same way, that they might 
retreat from one to the other if the doors were forced. 

It was eight o’clock in the evening before all was ready, 
and they were still occupied with the last defense, under 
the superintendence of Mesty, who showed himself an 
able engineer, when they heard the sound of an approach- 
ing multitude. They looked out of one of the windows 
and perceived the house surrounded by the galley-slaves, 
in number, apparently, about a hundred. They were all 
dressed in a most fantastic manner with whatever they 
could pick up; some had firearms, but the most of them 
were supplied with only swords or knives. With them 
came also their cortege of plunder: carts of various de- 
scriptions loaded with provisions of all sorts and wine; 
women lashed down with ropes, sails from the vessels and 
boats to -supply them with covering in the mountains, hay 
and straw and mattresses. Their plunder appeared to be 
well chosen for their exigencies. To the carts were tied a 
variety of cattle, intended to accompany them to their 
retreat. They all appeared to be under a leader who was 
issuing directions — that leader was soon recognized by 
those in the house to be Don Silvio. 

“Massa Easy, you show me dat man?” said Mesty, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 


when he heard the conversation between Easy and the 
Rebieras; “only let me know him.” 

“Do you see him there, Mesty, walking down in front 
of those men? he has a musket in his hand, a jacket with 
silver buttons, and white trousers.” 

“Yes, Massa Easy, me see him well — let me look little 
'more — dat enough.” 

The galley-slaves appeared to he very anxious to sur- 
round the house that no one should escape, and Don Silvio 
was arranging the men. 

“Ned,” said Jack, “let us show him that we are here. 
He said that he would acquaint Don Rebiera with our 
arrival — let us prove to him that he is too late.” 

“It would not he a had plan,” replied Gascoigne; “if it 
were possible that these fellows had any gratitude among 
them, some of them might relent at the idea of attacking 
those who saved them.” 

“Not a bit; but it will prove to them that there are 
more in the house than they think for; and we can 
frighten some of them by telling them that the soldiers 
are near at hand.” 

Jack immediately threw up the casement and called out 
in a loud voice, “Don Silvio! galley-slave! Don Silvio!” 

The party hailed turned round and beheld Jack, Gas- 
coigne, and Mesty, standing at the window of the upper 
floor. 

“We have saved you the trouble of announcing us,” 
called out Gascoigne. “We are here to receive you.” 

“And in three hours the troops will be here, so you 
must be quick, Don Silvio,” continued Jack. 

“A revederla ,” continued Gascoigne, letting fly his 
pistol at Don Silvio. 

The window was then immediately closed. The ap- 
pearance of our heroes, and their communication of the 
speedy arrival of the troops, was not without effect. The 
criminals trembled at the idea; Don Silvio was mad with 
ra ge — he pointed out to the men the necessity of imme- 
diate attack — the improbability of the troops arriving so 
soon, and the wealth which he expected was locked up by 
Don Rebiera in his mansion. This rallied them, and 
they advanced to the doors, which they attempted to 
force without success, losing several men by the occasional 
fire from those within the house. Finding their efforts 


284 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


after half an hour’s repeated attempts to be useless, they 
retreated, and then, bringing up a long piece of timber, 
which required sixty men to carry it, they ran with it 
against the door, and the weight and impetus of the tim- 
ber drove it olf its hinges, and an entrance was obtained ; 
by this time it was dark, the lower story had been aban- 
doned, but the barricade at the head of the stairs opposed 
their progress. Convenient loop-holes had been prepared 
by the defenders, who now opened a smart fire upon the 
assailants, the latter having no means of returning it 
effectually had they had ammunition for their muskets, 
which fortunately they had not been able to procure. 
The combat now became fierce, and the galley-slaves were 
several times repulsed with great loss during a contest of 
two hours; but encouraged by Don Silvio, and refreshed 
by repeated draughts of wine, they continued by degrees 
removing the barriers opposed to them. 

“We shall have to retreat!” exclaimed Don Eebiera; 
“very soon they will have torn down all. What do you 
think, Signor Easy?” 

“Hold this as long as we can. How are we off for am- 
munition?” 

“Plenty as yet — plenty to last for six hours, I think.” 

“What do you say, Mesty?” 

“By holy St. Patrig — I say hold out here — they got no 
firearms — and we ab um at arm -length.” 

This decision was the occasion of the first defense being 
held for two hours more, an occasional relief being afforded 
by the retreat of the convicts to the covered carts. 

At last it was evident that the barricade was no longer 
tenable, for the heavy pieces of furniture they had heaped 
up to oppose entrance were completely hammered to frag- 
ments by poles brought up by the assailants, and used as 
battering-rams. The retreat was sounded; they all 
hastened to the other story, where the ladies were already 
placed, and the galley-slaves were soon in possession of 
the first floor — exasperated by the defense, mad with 
wine and victory, but finding nothing. 

Again was the attack made upon the second landing, 
but, as the stairs were now narrower, and their defenses 
stronger in proportion, they, for a long while, gained no 
advantage. On the contrary, many of their men were 
wounded and taken down below. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


285 


The darkness of the night prevented both parties from 
seeing distinctly, which was rather in favor of the assail- 
ants. Many climbed over the fortress of piled-up fur- 
niture, and were killed as soon as they appeared on the 
other side, and at last, the only ammunition used was 
against those who made this rash attempt. For four long 
hours did this assault and defense continue, until daylight 
came, and then the plan of assault was altered; they again 
brought up the poles, hammered the pieces of furniture 
into fragments, and gained ground. The defendants were 
worn out with fatigue, but flinched not; they knew that 
their lives, and the lives of those dearest to them, were 
at stake, and they never relaxed their exertions; still the 
criminals, with Silvio at their head, progressed, the dis- 
tance between the parties gradually decreased, and there 
was but one massive chest of drawers now defending the 
landing-place, and over which there was a constant suc- 
cession of blows from long poles and cutlasses, returned 
with the bullets from their pistols. 

“We must now fight for our lives,” exclaimed Gas- 
coigne to Easy, “for what else can we do?” 

“Do! get on the roof and fight there, then,” replied 
Jack. 

“By the bye, that’s well thought of, Jack,” said Gas- 
coigne. “Mesty, up and see if there is any place we can 
retreat to in case of need.” 

Mesty hastened to obey, and soon returned with a report 
that there was a trap-door leading into the loft under the 
roof, and that they could draw the ladder up after them. 

“Then we may laugh at them,” cried Jack. “Mesty, 
stay here while I and Gascoigne assist the ladies up,” ex- 
plaining to the Rebieras and to their domestics why they 
went. 

Easy and Gascoigne hastened to the signora and Agnes, 
conducted them up the ladder into the loft, and requested 
them to have no fear; they then returned to the defenses 
on the stairs, and joined their companions. They found 
them hard pressed, and that there was little chance of 
holding out much longer; but the stairs were narrow, and 
the assailants could not bring their force against them. 
But now, as the defenses were nearly desroyed, although 
the convicts could not reach them with their knives, they 
brought up a large supply of heavy stones, which they 


286 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


threw with great force and execution. Two of Don 
Rebiera’s men and Don Martin were struck down, and 
this new weapon proved most fatal. 

“We must retreat, Jack,” said Gascoigne; “the stones 
can do no harm where we are going to. What think 
you, Don Philip?” 

“I agree with you; let those who are wounded be first 
' carried up, and then we will follow.” 

This was effected ; and as soon as the wounded men were 
carried up the ladder, and the arms taken up to prevent 
their falling into the hands of the assailants, for they 
were now of little use to them, the ammunition being 
exhausted, the whole body went into the large room 
which contained the trap-door of the loft, and as soon as 
they were up, they drew the ladder after them. They 
had hardly effected this, when they were followed with 
the yells and shoutings of the galley-slaves, who had passed 
the last barriers, and thought themselves sure of their 
prey; but they were disappointed; they found them more 
secure than ever. 

Nothing could exceed the rage of Don Silvio at the pro- 
tracted resistance of the party, and the security of their 
retreat. To get at them was impossible, so he determined 
to set fire to the room, and suffocate them, if he could do 
no otherwise. He gave his directions to his men, who 
rushed down for straw; but in so doing he carelessly 
passed under the trap-door, and Mesty, who had carried 
up with him two or three of the stones, dashed one down 
on the head of Don Silvio, who fell immediately. He was 
carried away, but his orders were putin execution; the 
room was filled with straw and fodder, and lighted. The 
effects were soon felt; the trap-door had been shut, but 
the heat and smoke burst through; after a time, the 
planks and rafters took fire, and their situation was terri- 
ble. A small trap-window in the roof, on the side of the 
house, was knocked open, and gave them a temporary re- 
lief; but now the rafters burned and crackled, and the 
smoke burst on them in thick columns. They could not 
see, and with difficulty could breathe. Fortunately the 
room below that which had been fired was but one out of 
four on the attics, and, as the loft they were in spread 
over the whole of the roof, they were able to remove far 
from it. The house was slated with massive slates of some 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 


hundred-weight each, and it was not found possible to 
remove them so as to give air, although frequent attempts 
were made. Donna Kebiera sank exhausted in the arms 
of her husband, and Agnes fell into those of our hero, 
who, enveloped in the smoke, kissed her again and again; 
and she, poor girl, thinking that they must all inevitably 
perish, made no scruple, in what she supposed her last 
moment, of returning these proofs of her ardent attach- 
ment. 

“Massa Easy, help me here — Massa Gascoigne, come 
here. Now heab wid all your might; wlien we get one oil 
we get plenty.” 

Summoned by Mesty, Jack and Gascoigne put thier 
shoulders to one of the lower slates; it yielded — was dis- 
engaged, and slid down with a loud rattling below. The 
ladies were brought to it, and their heads put outside; 
they soon recovered ; and now that they had removed one, 
they found no difficutly in removing others. In a few 
minutes they were all with their heads in the open air, 
but still the house was on fire below, and they had no 
chance of escape. It was while they were debating upon this 
point, and consulting as to their chance of safety, that a 
breeze of wind wafted the smoke that issued from the roof 
away from them, and they beheld the detachment of 
troops making up to the house; a loud cheer was given, 
and attracted the notice of the soldiers. They perceived 
Easy and his companions; the house was surrounded and 
entered in an instant. 

The galley-slaves, who were in the house searching for 
the treasure reported by Don Silvio to be concealed, were 
captured or killed, and in five minutes, the troops had 
possession. But how to assist those above was the diffi- 
culty. The room below was in flames, and burning 
fiercely. There were no ladders that could reach so high, 
and 4here were no means of getting to them. The com- 
mandant made signs from below, as if to ask what he was 
to do. 

“I see no chance,” observed Don Philip mournfully. 
“Easy, my dear fellow, and you, Gascoigne, I am sorry 
that the feuds of our family should have brought you to 
such a dreadful death; but what can be done?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Jack, “unless we could get 
ropes*” 


MR . MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


£88 


“You quite sure, Massa Easy, that all galley-rascals 
below gone?” asked Mesty. 

“Yes,” replied Easy; “you may see that; look at 
some of them bound there, under charge of the soldiers.” 

“Den, sar, I tink it high time we go too.” 

“So do I, Mesty; hut how?” 

“How? stop a little.” Come, help me, Massa Easy; 
dis board” (for the loft was floored) “is loose, come help, 
all of you.” 

They all went, and with united strength, pulled up the 
board. 

“Now strike like hell! and drive down de plaster,” 
said Mesty, commencing the operation. 

In a few minutes they had beaten an opening into one 
of the rooms below not on fire, pulled up another board, 
and Mesty having fetched the ladder, they all desended 
in safety, and, to the astonishment of the commandant of 
the troops, walked out of the door of the house, those who 
had been stunned with the stones having so-far recovered 
as to require little assistance. 

The soldiers shouted as they saw them appear support- 
ing the females. The commanding officer, who was an 
intimate friend of Don Philip, flew to his arms. The 
prisoners were carefully examined by Mesty, and Don 
Silvio was not among them. He might, however, be 
among the dead who were left in the house, which now 
began to burn furiously. The galley-slaves who were cap- 
tured amounted in number to forty-seven. Their dead 
they could not count. The major part of the plunder 
and the carts were still where they had been drawn up. 

As soon as the culprits had been secured, the attention 
of the troops was directed to putting out the flames, but 
their attempts were ineffectual; the mansion was burned 
to the bare wails, and but little of the furniture saved;, 
indeed, the major part of it had been destroyed in the 
attack made by Don Silvio and his adherents. 

Leaving directions with Pedro and his people that the 
property collected by the miscreants should be restored to 
the owners, Don Iiebiera ordered the horses, and with the 
whole party put himself under the protection of the 
troops, who, as soon as they had been refreshed and taken 
some repose, bent their way back to Palermo with the 
gallev-slaves ? bound and linked together in a long double 
row. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


289 


They halted when they had gone half-way, and re- 
mained for the night. The next day, at noon, Don 
Rebiera and his family were once more in their palazzo, 
and our two midshipmen and Mesty took their leave, and 
repaired on board to make themselves a little less like 
chimney-sweepers. 

. Captain Wilson was not out of the ship. Jack made 
his report and then went down below, very much pleased 
at what had passed, especially as he would have another 
long yarn for the governor on his return to Malta. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO AND GASCOIGNE OUGHT TO BE 
ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES, AND DID FEEL WHAT 
MIGHT BE CALLED MIDSHIP-MITE COMPUNCTION. 

The Aurora continued three weeks at Palermo, during 
which the most active search had been made for the re- 
mainder of the galley-slaves and some few had been cap- 
tured, but still Don Silvio and a considerable number 
were at large; and it was said that they had retired to the 
fastnesses of the mountains. Our hero was constantly on 
shore at Don Rebiera’s house, and, after what had passed, 
he was now looked upon as soon to become a member of 
the family. The difference of religion was overlooked by 
Don Rebiera and the relations — by all but the confessor, 
Father Thomaso, who now began to agitate and fulminate 
into the ears of the Donna Rebiera all the pains and pen- 
alties attending heretical connection, such as excommuni- 
cation and utter damnation. The effects of his remon- 
strances were soon visible, and Jack found that there was 
constraint on the part of the old Lady, tears on the part of 
Agnes, and all father confessors heartily wished at the 
devil ten times a day on the part of Don Philip and his 
brother. At last he wormed the truth out of Agnes, who 
told her tale, and wept bitterly. 

“Ned, I don’t much like the appearance of things, ” 
observed Jack; “I must get rid of that Father Thomaso.” 

“Youd! find that rather difficult,” observed Gascoigne; 


290 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“besides, if you were rid of him, you would have his place 
filled up with another. 

“He has frightened that poor old woman into the dis- 
mals, and she has the pains of purgatory on her already. 
I shall go and talk to Mesty.” 

“How can Mesty help you?” 

“I don’t know, but you can’t; so, for want of better 
advice, I’ll try the Ashantee.” 

Our hero went to Mesty, and laid the difficult affair 
open to him. 

“I see,” said Mesty, showing his filed teeth, “you want 
him skull.” 

“No, I don’t, Mesty; but I want him out of the way.” 

“How that possible, Massa Easy? ship sail day after to- 
morrow. Now, ’pose I ab time, I soon manage all dat. 
Stop a little.” 

“Confound it! but there’s no stopping,” replied Jack. 

“Suppose, Massa Easy, you get leave go on shore — not 
come off again?” 

“That will be deserting, Mesty.” 

“By holy poker, I ab it — you go ashore and break your 
leg.” 

“Break my leg! — break my leave, you mean?” 

“No, Massa Easy — you break your leg — den captain 
leave you shore and leave me take care of you.” 

“But why should I break my leg, and how am I to 
break my leg?” 

“Only pretend break leg, Massa Easy. Go talk Massa 
Don Philip, he manage all dat. Suppose man break his 
leg in seven pieces, it is not possible to take him board.” v 

“Seven pieces, Mesty! that’s rather too many. How- 
ever, I’ll think of this.” 

Jack then went back and consulted Gascoigne, who 
approved of Mesty’s advice, and thought the scheme 
feasible. 

“If we could only pretend that we were thrown out of 
a caricola, you break your leg, a compound fracture of 
course — I break my arm — both left on shore at sick 
quarters, with Mesty to take care of us.” 

“Capital, indeed,” replied Jack; “I really would not 
mind it if it really took place; at all events, we’ll over' 
turn the caricola.” 

“But shall we get leave the last day?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


291 


“Yes, it’s two days since I have been on shore, for I 
have not liked to go to Don Rebiera’s since what Agnes 
told me. Besides, my clothes are all on shore, and that 
will be an excuse for a few hours.” 

Our two midshipmen applied for leave the next morn- 
ing to be off in the afternoon. The first lieutenant gave 
them permission. They hastened to the hotel, sent for 
Don Philip, and made him a party to their plan. He 
readily promised his assistance, for he had resolved that 
our hero should marry his sister, and was fearful of the 
effect of his absence, coupled with Friar Thomaso’s in- 
fluence over his mother. He went to the surgeon of his 
regiment, who immediately entered into the scheme. 

Our two midshipmen got into a caricola, rattled up and 
down the streets, and perceiving Captain Wilson at his 
window, flogged the horse into a gallop; when abreast of 
the barracks Jack ran the wheel against a bank, and 
threw himself and Gascoigne out. Midshipmen are never 
hurt by these accidents, but fortunately for the success of 
the enterprise, their faces were cut and bruised. Don 
Phi] ip was standing by; he called the men to pick up our 
two scamps, carried them into the barracks, and sent for 
the surgeons, who undressed them, put Jack’s left leg 
into a multitude of splints, and did the same to Gas- 
coigne’s arm. They were then put to bed, their contused 
faces, with the blood, left in statu quo , while Don Philip 
sent an orderly, as from the commandant to Captain Wil- 
son, to acquaint him that two of his officers had been 
thrown out of a caricola, and were lying dangerously hurt 
at the barracks. 

“Good heavens, it must be Mr. Easy, and Mr. Gas- 
coigne!” said Captain Wilson, when the intelligence was 
communicated; “I saw them galloping down the street 
like two madmen just now. Coxswain, take the gig on 
board, and tell the surgeon to come on shore immediately, 
and bring him up to me at the barracks.” 

Captain Wilson then put on his hat, buckled on his 
sword, and hastened to ascertain the extent of the injury. 
Don Philip kept out of the way, but the captain was 
ushered into the room by one of the officers, where he 
found, in two beds, our two midshipmen stretched out, 
the surgeon of the forces and the regimental surgeon in 
consultation between them, while attendants were stand- 


m 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


ing by each bed with restoratives. The medical gentle- 
men saluted Captain Wilson, and looked very grave, 
talked about fractures, contusions, injuries, in the most 
interminable manner — hoped that Mr. Easy would recover 
— but had doubts. The other gentleman might do well 
with care; that is, as far as his arm was concerned, but 
there appeared to be a concussion of the brain. Captain 
Wilson looked at the cut and blood-smeared faces of the 
two young men, and waited with anxiety the arrival of his 
own surgeon, who came at last, puffing with the haste he 
had made, and received the report of the brothers of the 
faculty. 

The leg of Mr. Easy fractured in two places— had been 
set — bone protruding — impossible to move him. Gas- 
coigne, arm, compound fracture — contusion of the brain 
not certain. Now that all this would have been dis- 
covered to be false if the surgeon had been able to ex- 
amine, is true; but how could he not credit the surgeon 
of the forces and the regimental surgeon, and how could 
he put the young men to fresh tortures by removing 
splints and unsetting limbs? Politeness, if nothing else, 
prevented his so doing, for it would have been as much 
as to say that either he did not credit their report or that 
he doubted their skill. He looked at our hero and his 
companion, who kept their eyes closed, and breathed 
heavily with their mouths open, put on a grave face as 
well as his brothers in the art, and reported to Captain 
Wilson. 

“But when can they be moved, Mr. Daly?” inquired 
the latter; “I cannot wait; we must sail to-morrow, or 
the next day at the furthest.” 

The surgeon, as in duty bound, put the question to the 
others, who replied that there would be great risk in mov- 
ing before the fever, which might be expected the next 
day, and which might last ten days; but that Captain 
Wilson had better not think of removing them, as they 
should have every care and attention where they were, 
and could rejoin the ship at Malta. Mr. Daly, the 
surgeon, agreed that this would be the most prudent step, 
and Captain Wilson then gave his consent. 

That being settled, he walked up to the bed of Gas- 
coigne and spoke to him; but Gascoigne knew that he was 
to have a concussion of the brain, and he made no reply, 


MM. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


m 


nor gave any signs of knowing that Captain Wilson was 
near him. He then went to our hero, who, at the sound 
of Captain Wilson’s voice, slowly opened his eyes without 
moving his head, and appeared to recognize him. 

“Are you in much pain, Easy?” said the captain 
kindly. 

Easy closed his eyes again and murmured, “Mesty, 
Mesty!” . 

“He wants his servant, the ship’s corporal, sir,” said 
the surgeon. 

“Well,” replied Captain Wilson, “he had better have 
him; he is a faithful fellow and will nurse him well. 
When you go on board, Mr. Daly, desire the first lieuten- 
ant to send Mesty on shore with Mr. Gascoigne’s and Mr. 
Easy’s chests, and ; his own bag and hammock. Good 
heavens! I would not for a thousand pounds that this 
accident had occurred. Poor foolish boys — they run in 
couples, and if one’s in a scrape the other is sure to share 
it. Gentlemen, I return you many thanks for your kind- 
ness, and I must accept of your promised care for my un- 
fortunate officers. I sail to-morrow at daylight. You 
will oblige me by informing their friends, the Rebieras, 
of their mischance, as I am sure they will contribute all 
they can to their comfort.” So saying, Captain Wilson 
bowed and quitted the room, followed by the surgeon. 

As soon as the door closed the two midshipmen turned 
their heads round and looked at each other, but they 
were afraid to speak at first, in case of the return of the 
surgeon. As soon as it was announced to them that Cap- 
tain AVilson and Mr. Daly were outside the barrack gates, 
our hero commenced — “Do you know, Ned, that my 
conscience smites me, and if it had not been that I should 
have betrayed those who wish to oblige us, when poor 
Captain AVilson appeared to be so much hurt and annoyed 
at our accident, I was very near getting up and telling 
him of the imposition to relieve his mind.” 

“I agree with you, Jack, and I felt much the same — 
but what’s done cannot be undone. We must now keep 
up the imposition for the sake of those who, to help us, 
have deceived him.” 

“I don’t think that you would find an English surgeon 
who would have consented to such an imposition.” 

“No, that is certain; but, after all, it is an imposition 
that has hurt nobod v*” 


m 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST, 


“Oh, I do not wish to moralize — but I repent of my 
share in the deceit; and had it to be done over again I 
A r ould not consent to it.” 

“Not even for — But I won’t mention her name in 
barracks.” 

“I don’t know,” replied Jack; “but let’s say no more 
about it, and thank these gentlemen for their kindness.” 

“Yes, but we must keep it up until we see the Aurora^ 
under all sail.” 

“And longer too,” replied Jack; “we must not let the 
affair get wind, even on shore. We must not recover 
quickly, but still appear to recover. Don Rebiera and his 
wife must be deceived. I have a plot in my head, but T 
cannot work it out clear until I see Mesty.” 

Don Philip now came in. He had seen Captain Wilson, 
who had requested him to look after the two invalids, and 
stated his intention to sail the next morning. They con ■ 
suited with him, and it was agreed that no one should be 
acquainted with the real fact but his brother Martin, and 
that all Palermo should be as much deceived as Captain 
Wilson, for if not, it would put Father Thomaso on the 
qui vive , and make him fulminate more than ever. Our 
midshipmen ate an excellent dinner, and then remained 
in bed conversing till it was time to go to sleep; but long 
before that, Mesty had made his appearance with their 
clothes. The eyes of the Ashantee said all that was 
necessary — he never spoke a word, but unlashed his ham- 
mock and lay down in a corner, and they were soon all 
jthree asleep. 

The next morning Captain Wilson called to ascertain 
how our hero and his companion were, but the room had 
been darkened and he could not see their faces plainly. 
Easy thanked him for his kindness in allowing Mesty to 
attend them, and having received his orders as to their 
joining the ship as soon as they were recovered, and hav- 
ing promised to be very cautious in their behavior and 
keep out of all scrapes, he wished them a speedy recovery 
and departed. 

In little more than half an hour afterward, Mesty, who 
had been peeping out of the shutters, suddenly threw 
them open with a loud laugh. 

The Aurora was under weigh with studding-sails below 
,uid aloft, standing out of the roads. Jack and Gascoigne 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST, 


m 


got up, threw off the splints, and danced about in their 
shirts. As soon as they were quiet again, Mesty said in a- 
grave tone, “Den why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?’’ 

“Very true, Mesty, I’ve asked myself that question 
often enough lately; because I’m a fool, I suppose.” 

“And I, because I can’t help it,” replied Gascoigne; 
“never mind, we are on shore now, and I look for a 
famous cruise.” 

“But first we must see what the ground is we are to 
cruise on,” replied Jack; “so, Mesty, let us have a pa- 
laver, as they say in your country.” 

The two midshipmen got into their beds, and Mesty sat 
on the chest between them, looking as grave as a judge. 
The question was, how to get rid of the padre Thomaso. 
Was he to be thrown over the molehead to the fishes — or 
his skull broke — was Mesty’s knife to be resorted to — was 
he to be kidnaped or poisoned — or were fair means to be 
employed — persuasion, bribery? Every one knows how 
difficult it is to get rid of a priest. 

As our hero and Gascoigne were not Italians, they 
thought that bribery would be the more English -like way 
of doing the thing; so they composed a letter, to be de- 
livered by Mesty to the friar, in which Jack offered to 
Father Thomaso the moderate sum of one thousand 
dollars, provided he would allow the marriage to proceed 
and not frighten the old lady with ecclesiastical squibs and 
crackers. 

As Mesty was often on shore with Jack, and knew the 
friar very well by sight, it was agreed that the letter 
should be confided to his charge; but, as it was not con- 
sistent that a person in such a state as our hero was repre- 
sented to be should sit up and write letters, the delivery 
was deferred for a few days, when, after waiting that time, 
Mesty delivered the letter to the friar, and made signs 
that he was to take back the answer. The friar beckoned 
him that he was to accompany him to his room, where he 
read the letter, and then again made signs to him to fol- 
low him. The friar led the way to his monastery, and as 
soon as Mesty was in his cell, he summoned another who 
could speak English to act as interpreter. 

“Is your master recovering?” 

“Yes,” replied Mesty, “he is at present doing well.” 

‘Have you served him long?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN MASK 


£§6 


“No,” replied Mesty. 

‘‘Are you very fond of him? does he treat you well, give 
you plenty of money V 9 

At these questions, the artful black conceived that 
there was something in the wind, and he therefore very 
quietly replied, “I do not care much for him,.” 

The friar fixed his keen eye upon Mesty, and perceived 
there was a savage look about the black, from which he 
argued that he was a man who would suit his purpose. 

“Your master oifers me a thousand dollars; would you 
wish to gain this money for yourself?” 

Mesty grinned and showed his sharp filed teeth. 

“It would make me a rich man in my own country.” 

“It would,” replied the friar; “now you shall have it, 
if you only give your master a small powder.” 

“I understand,” replied Mesty; “hab those things in 
my country.” 

“Well, do you consent? if so I will write the letter to 
get the money.” 

“Suppose they find me out?” replied Mesty. 

“You will be safe, and you shall be sent away as soon 
as possible. Say, will you consent?” 

“The whole thousand dollars?” 

“Every one of them.” 

“Den give me the powder.” 

“Stay a little,” replied the friar, who went out of the 
cell, and in about ten minutes, returned with an answer 
to our hero’s letter, and a paper containing a grayish 
powder. 

“Give him this in his soup or anything; spread it on 
his meat, or mix it up with his sugar if he eats an orange.” 

“I see,” replied Mesty. 

“The dollars shall be yours. I swear it on the holy 
cross.” 

Mesty grinned horribly, took his credentials, and then 
asked, “When I come again?” 

“As soon as you have received the money, bring it to 
me at Don Rebiera’s; then give the powder : as soon as it 
is given, you must let me know, for you must not remain 
in Palermo. I will myself conduct you to a place oi 
safety.” 

Mesty then quitted the cell, and was shown out of the 
monastery. 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN- east. 


29 ? 

u By de holy poker, he one d — mn rascal !” muttered 
Mesty as he was once in the open air. “But stop a 
little.” 

The Ashantee soon arrived at the barracks, and repeated 
the whole of the conference between him and the Friar 
Thomaso. 

“It must be poison, of course,” observed Gascoigne; 
“suppose we try it upon some animal?” 

“No, Massa Gascoigne,” replied Mesty; “I try it my- 
self, by and by. Now what we do?” 

“I must give you the order for the thousand dollars, 
Mesty,” replied Jack. “The rascal here writes to me 
that for the sum he will consent not only not to oppose me, 
but agrees to assist my cause; but the great question is 
whether he will keep his word with you, Mesty; if not, I 
shall lose my money. So therefore we must now have 
another palaver, and argue the point.” 

The point was argued between Jack and Gascoigne. A 
thousand dollars was a large sum; but Jack’s father was a 
philosopher. After many pros and cons , it was at last 
decided that the money should be given to Mesty; but 
that Mesty should state, when he took the money to the 
friar, that he had administered the powder, and claim it 
when he presented it. 

The next day, the order for the money was given to 
Mesty, and he went to the Friar Thomaso with it. The 
friar hastened with Mesty to the monastery, and sent for 
the interpreter. 

“You have given it?” inquired the friar. 

“Yes; not one hour ago. Here de order for de money.” 

“You must run for the money before he is dead, for the 
powder is very rapid.” 

“And me,” replied Mesty, apparently much alarmed, 
“where am I to go?” 

“As soon as you bring the money here, you must go 
back to the barracks. Remain there till he is dead, and 
then return here. I will have all ready, and take you, as 
soon as it is dusk, to a monastery of our order in the 
mountains, where no one will think of looking for jou, 
till the affair has blown over; and then I will find you a 
passage in some vessel out of the island.” 

Mesty hastened for the money, and taking it in a large 
bag to the monastery, delivered it to the friar’s charge, 


^98 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


and then returned to the barracks to Easy and Gas* 
coigne. It was agreed that he should go with the friar, 
who would probably remain away some time; indeed, 
Mesty insisted upon so doing. Mesty stayed two hours, 
and then returned about dusk to the monastery, and re- 
ported the death of our hero. He remained there until it 
was dark, and then the friar ordered him to tie the bag of 
dollars to his saddle bow. They mounted two mules, 
which stood all ready caparisoned, and quitted Palermo. 

In the morning Don Philip, as usual, made his appear- 
ance, and told our hero that the friar had been summoned 
away by the abbot, and would not return for some time. 

“I came to tell you this news,” said Don Philip, “as I 
thought it would please you ; the sooner you are now well, 
the better. I mean to propose your being both removed 
to my father’s palazzo, and then }^ou can recover your 
lost ground during the confessor’s absence.” 

“And I have the means,” replied Jack, showing the 
friar’s letter. Don Philip read it with astonishment; but 
was still more surprised when he heard the whole story 
from Jack. He was for a time silent; at last he said: 

“I am sorry for your poor black.” 

“Why so?” replied Jack. 

“You will never see him again, depend upon it. A 
thousand dollars would sign the death-warrant of a thou- 
and blacks; but there is another reason: they will put 
him out of the way that he may not give evidence. 
Where is the powder?” 

“Mesty has it; he would not part with it.” 

“He is a shrewd fellow, that black; he may be too 
much for the friar,” replied Don Philip. 

“He means mischief, I’m sure,” replied Gascoigne. j 

“Still I feel a great deal ofalarm about him,” replied 
Easy; “I wish now that I had not let him go.” 

“Are you sure that he went?” 

“No, I am not; but the friar told him that he should 
take him to the mountains as soon as it was dark.” 

“And probably he will,” replied Don Philip, “as the 
best place to get rid of him. However, the whole of this 
story must be told both to my father and my mother; to 
the former that he may take the right measures, and to 
my mother that it may open her eyes. Give me the copy 
of the letter you wrote to the friar, and then I shall have 
it all.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


299 


The report of the accident which had occurred to Easy 
and Gascoigne had been spread and fully believed through- 
out Palermo. Indeed, as usual, it had been magnified, 
and asserted that they could not recover. To Agnes only 
had the case been imparted in confidence by Don Philip, 
for her distress at the first intelligence had been so great 
that her brother could not conceal it. 

Two days after Don Philip had made his parents ac- 
quainted with the villainy of the friar, the midshipmen 
were transported to the palazzo, much to the surprise of 
everybody, and much to the renown of the surgeons^ who 
were indemnified for their duplicity and falsehood by an 
amazing extension of their credit as skillful men. 

After their arrival at the palazzo, Don Rebiera was also 
intrusted with the secret, but it went no further. As 
now there was no particular hurry for our hero to get 
well, he was contented and happy in the society of Agnes 
and her parents ; the old lady, after she had been in- 
formed of the conduct of Friar Thomaso, having turned 
round in our hero’s favor, and made a vow never to have 
a confessor in the house again. Jack and Gascoigne were 
now as happy as could be; all their alarm was about 
Mesty, for whose return they were most anxious. 

To Don Rebiera Jack made known formally his inten- 
tions with regard to Agnes. He fully satisfied him as to 
his qualifications and his property, and Don Rebiera was 
fully aware of his debt of gratitude to our hero. But all 
he required was the consent of Jack’s father, and until 
this was obtained, he would not consent to the marriage 
taking place. Jack attempted to argue the point; his 
father, he said, had married without consulting him, and, 
therefore, he had a right to marry without consulting his 
father. But Don Rebiera, not having any acquaintance 
with the rights of man and equality, did not feel the full 
force of Jack’s argument, and made it a sine qua non 
that his parents should write and consent to the alliance 
before it took place. 


300 


Ml l MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

IK WHICH MESTY SHOULD BE CALLED THROUGHOUT MEPH- 
ISTOPHELES, FOR IT ABOUKDS IK BLACK CLOAKS, 
DISGUISES, DAGGERS, AKD DARK DEEDS. 

Ok the fourth evening after the removal of onr two 
midshipmen to the palazzo of Don Rebiera, as they were 
sitting in company with Agnes and Don Philip in their 
own room, a friar made his appearance at the door. 
They all started, for by his height they imagined him to 
he the friar Thomaso, hut no one addressed him. The 
friar shut the door without saying a word, and then, lift- 
ing up his cowl, which had been drawn over it, discovered 
the black face of Mesty. Agnes screamed, and all sprang 
from their seats at this unusual and unexpected appari- 
tion. Mesty grinned, and there was that in his coun- 
tenance which said that he had much to communicate. 

“Where is the friar, Mesty V* inquired Easy. 

“Stop a little, massa — suppose we lock the door first, 
and den I tell all.” 

Taking this precaution, Mesty threw off the friar’s 
gown, and appeared in his own dress, with the bag of 
dollars slung round his body. 

“Now, Massa Easy, I hab a long tory to tell — so I tink 
I better begin at the beginning.” 

“It is the most approved method,” replied Jack; “but 
stop when I hold up my finger, that we may translate 
what you say to the lady and Don Philip.” 

“Dat all right, sar. Friar and I get on two mule as 
soon as it quite dark. He make me carry all tousand 
dollars — and we ride out of town. We go up mountain 
and mountain, but the moon get up shine,' and we go on 
cheek by jowl — he nebber say one word, and I nebber say 
one word, ’cause I no speak his lingo, and he no under- 
stand my English. About two o’clock in de morning, we 
stop at a house and stay dere till eight o’clock, and den 
we go on again all next day, up all mountain, only stop 
once, eat a bit bread, and drink lilly wine. Second night 
come on, and den we stop again, and people bow very low 
to him, and woman bring in rabbit for make supper. I 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


h’Ol 


go in the kitchen; woman make stew smell very nice, so 
1 nod my head, and I say very good, and she make a face 
and throw on table black loaf of bread and garlic, and 
make sign dat for my supper; good enough for black 
fellow, and dat rabbit stew for friar. Den I say to my- 
self, stop a little; suppose friar hab all de rabbit, I tink 
I give him a lilly powder.” 

“The powder, Mesty?” exclaimed Jack. 

“What does he say?” inquired Don Philip. 

Gascoigne translated all that Mesty had communicated. 
The interest of the narrative now became exciting. 
Mesty continued : 

“Well, Massa Easy, den woman she go for dish to put 
stew in, and I take de powder and drop it in de pot, and 
den I sit down again and eat black bread, she say good 
enough for black man. She tir up de stew once more, 
an den she pour it out into dish, and take it to friar. He 
lick um chops, by all de powers, and he like um so well 
he pick all de bones, and wipe up gravy with him bread. 
You tink it very nice, Massa Friar, tink I; but stop a 
little. After he drink a whole bottle of wine, he tell um 
bring mules to de door, an he put him hands on de woman 
head, and dat de way he pay for him supper. 

“The moon shone bright and we go up all mountain, 
always go up, 'and ’bout two hour, he get off him mule 
and he put him hand so, and set down on de rock. He 
twist, and he turn, and he groan, for half an hour, and 
den he look at me, as much as to say, you black villain, 
you do this? for he not able to speak, and den I pull out 
de paper of de powder, and I show him, and make him 
sign he swallow it, he look again, and I laugh at him — 
and he die.” 

“Oh, Mesty, Mesty,” exclaimed our hero; “you should 
not have done that, there will mischief come from it.” 

“Now he dead, Massa Easy, so much less mischief.” 

Gascoigne then interpreted to Don Philip and Agnes, 
the former of whom looked very grave and the latter 
terrified. 

“Let him goon,” said Don Philip; “I am most anxious 
to hear what he did with the body.” 

Mesty, at the request of our hero, proceeded: “Den I 
thought what I should do, and I said I would hide him, 
and I tink I take his coat for myself— so I pull off him 


302 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


coat and I pull off all his a oder clothes — he not wear many 
— and I take the body in my arm and carry him where I 
find a great split in de rock above all road. I throw him 
in, and den I throw plenty large pieces rock on him till I 
no see him any more; den I take de two mules and get 
on mine wid de dollars, and lead the other three four 
mile, till I come to a large wood — take off him saddle and 
bridle, turn him adrift. Den I tear up all clothes all in 
lilly bits, hide one pi'ece here, noder piece dere, and de 
saddle and bridle in de bush. All right now, I say; so I 
put on friar cloak, hide my face, get on my mule, and 
den I look where I shall go — so I say, I not be in dis road 
anyhow, I pass through wood till I find nother. I go 
’bout two mile — moon go down, all dark and five six men 
catch hold my bridle, and they all got arms, so I do noth- 
ing — they speak to me, but I no answer, and nebber show 
my face. They find all dollars (d — mn um) fast enough, 
and they lead me away through the wood. Last we come 
to large fire in de wood, plenty of men lie ’bout, some eat 
and some drink. They pull me off, and I hold down my 
head and fold my arms, just like friar do. They bring 
me along to one man, and pour out all my dollars before 
him. He give some order, and they take me aw T ay, and 
I peep through the cloak, and I say to myself, he that 
d — mn galley-slave rascal Don Silvio.” 

“Don Silvio!” cried Jack. 

“What does he say of Don Silvio?” demanded Don 
Philip. ^ 

Mesty’s narrative was again translated, and he con- 
tinued: 

“Dey lead me away ’bout fifty yards, tie me to tree, 
and den they leave me, and dey all drink and make merry, 
neber offer me anyting, so as I hab noting den to eat, I eat 
de ropes and gnaw them through, and den I stay there 
two hour until all go asleep, and all quiet; for I say to 
myself, stop a little. Den when they all fast asleep, I 
take out my knife and I crawl Tong de ground, as we do 
in our country sometimes — and den I stop and look ’bout 
me; no man watch but two, and dey look out for squarl, 
not look in board where I was. I crawl ’gain till I lay 
down alongside that d — mn galley-slave Don Silvio. He 
lie fast asleep with my bag thousand dollars under him 
head. So I tink, you not hab dem long, you rascal. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


303 


t look round all right, and I drive my knife good aim into 
him heart, and press toder hand on him month, but he 
make no noise, he struggle little and look up, and den I 
throw off de head of de gown and show him my black 
face, and he look and he try to speak, but I stop dat, for 
down go my knife again, and de d — mn galley-slave dead 
as herring.” 

“Stop, Mesty, we must tell this to Don Philip,” said 
Gascoigne. 

“Dead, Don Silvio dead! well, Mesty, we are eternally 
obliged to you, for there was no safety for my father 
while he was living. Let him go on.” 

“So when I put de knife through his body, I lie down 
by him, as if noting had happened, for ten minute, and 
den I take the bag of dollars from under him head, and 
den I feel him all over, and I find him pistols and him 
purse, which I hab here, all gold. So I take them and 
I look — all asleep, and I crawl hack to de tree. Den 
I stay to tink a little, de man on watch come up and look 
at me, but he tink all right and he go away again. 
Lucky ting, by the power, dat I go back to tree. I wait 
again, and den I crawl and crawl till I clear of all, and 
den I take to my heel and run for um life, till daylight 
.come and den I so tired I lie down in bush; I stay in bush 
all day, and den I set off again back here, for I find road 
and know my way. I not eat den for one day and one 
night, and come to house where I put my head in and 
find woman there. I not able to speak, so I help myself, 
and not show my face. She not like dat and make a bob- 
bery, but I lift up my cloak and show my black face and 
white teeth, and den she tink me de debil. She run out 
of de house and I help myself very quick, and den set off 
and come close here yesterday morning. I hide myself 
all day and come in at night; and now, Massa Easy, you 
ab all the whole truth — and you ab your tousand dollars — 
and you ab got rid of de rascal friar and de d — mn galley- 
slave Don Silvio.” 

“Tell them all this, Ned,” said Jack, who, while Gas- 
coigne was so employed, talked with Mesty. 

“I was very much frightened for you, Mesty,” said 
Jack; “bift still I thought you' quite as cunning as the 
friar, and so it has turned out} but the thousand doltos 
ought to be yours,” 


304 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


“No, sar,” replied Mesty, “the dollars not mine; but I 
hab plenty of gold in Don Silvio’s purse — plenty, plenty 
of gold. I keep my property, Massa Easy, and you keep 
yours.’ 

“I’m afraid that this affair may be found out, Mesty; 
the woman will spread the report of having been attacked 
by a black friar, and that will lead to suspicion, as the 
other friars of the convent knew that you left with Friar 
Thomaso.” 

“So I tink dat, but when a man starve he quite forget 
his thought.” 

“I don’t blame you; but now I must talk to Don 
Philip.” 

<(< Suppose you no objection, while you talk I eat some- 
thing from the table then, Massa Easy, for I hungry 
enough to eat de friar, mule and all.” 

“Eat, my good fellow, and drink as much as you please.” 

The consultation between our two midshipmen and Don 
Philip was not long; they perceived the immediate neces- 
sity for the departure of Mesty, and the suspicion which 
would attach to themselves. Don Philip and Agnes left 
them to go to Don Eebiera, and make him acquainted 
with what had passed, and to ask his advice. 

When they went into the room, Don Eebiera imme- 
ditely accosted his son. 

“Have you heard, Philip, that Friar Thomaso has re- 
turned at last? — so the servants tell me.” 

“The report may be fortunate,” replied Don Philip; 
“but I have another story to tell you.” 

He then sat down and imparted to Don Eebiera all the 
adventures of Mesty. Don Eebiera was for some time in 
deep thought; at last he replied: 

“That Don Silvio is no more is fortunate, and the 
negro would be entitled to reward for his destruction — 
but for the friar, that is a bad business. The negro might 
remain and tell the whole story, and the facts might be 
proved by the evidence of Signor Easy, and the letters; 
but what then? we should raise the whole host of the 
clergy against our house, and we have suffered too much 
from them already; the best plan would be the immediate 
departure, not only of the negro, but of our two young 
friends. The supposition of Friar Thomaso being here, 
8»d their departure with the negro servant to rejoin their 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


305 


ship, will remove much suspicion and destroy all inquiry. 
They must be off immediately. Go to them, Philip, and 
point out to them the absolute necessity of this measure, 
and tell our young friend that I rigidly adhere to my 
promise, and as soon as he has his father's sanction I will 
bestow upon him my daughter. In the mean time I will 
send down and see if a vessel can be chartered for Malta.” 

Our hero and Gascoigne fully admitted the wisdom of 
this measure and prepared for their departure; indeed, 
now that Don Rebiera’s resolution had been made known 
to our hero, he cared more for obtaining his father’s con- 
sent than he did for remaining to enjoy himself at Pa- 
lermo, and before noon of the next day all was ready, the 
vessel had been procured, Jack took his leave of Agnes 
and her mother, and, accompanied by Don Rebiera and 
Don Philip (for Don Martin was on duty a few miles from 
Palermo), went down to the beach, and having bid them 
farewell, embarked with Gascoigne and Mesty on board 
of the two-masted lateen which had been engaged, and, 
before sunset, not a steeple of Palermo was to be seen. 

“What are you thinking of, Jack?” said Gascoigne, 
after our hero had been silent half an hour. 

“I have been thinking, Ned, that we are well out of it.” 

“So do I,” replied Gascoigne; and here the conver- 
sation dropped for a time: 

“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne, 
after a long pause. 

“I’ve been thinking that I’ve a good story for the old 
governor.” 

“Very true,” replied Gascoigne; and both were again 
silent for some time. 

“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne, 
after another long interval. 

“I’ve been thinking that I shall leave the service,” re 
plied Jack. 

“I wish you would take me with you,” replied Gas- 
coigne with a sigh; and again they were both in deep con- 
templation. 

“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne 
again. 

“Of Agnes,” replied our hero. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll call you when supper is 
ready. In the mean time I’ll go and talk with Mesty.” 


306 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

JACK LEAVES THE SERVICE, IN WHICH HE HAD HO 
BUSINESS, AND GOES HOME TO MIN'D HIS OWN 
BUSINESS. 

On the fourth day they arrived at Malta, and our two 
midshipmen, as soon as they had settled with the padrone 
of the vessel, went up to the government house. They 
found the governor in the veranda, who held out both his 
hands, one to each. 

“Glad to see you, my lads. Well, Jack, how’s the leg 
— all right? don’t limp. And your arm, Gascoigne?” 

“All right, sir, and as sound as ever it was,” replied 
they both. 

“Then you’re in luck, and have made more haste than 
you deserve after your mad pranks; but now sit down, 
and I suppose, my friend Jack, you have a story to tell 
me.” 

“Oh, yes, Sir Thomas, and a very long one.” 

“Then I won’t have it now, for I expect people on busi- 
ness; we’ll have it after dinner. Get your things up, 
and take possession of your rooms. The Aurora sailed 
four days ago. You’ve had a wonderful recovery.” 

“Wonderful, sir!” replied our hero; “all Palermo rings 
with it.” 

“Well, you may go now; I shall see you at dinner. 
Wilson will be delighted when he hears that you have got 
round again, for he was low-spirited about it, I can tell 
/ou, which is more than you deserve.” 

“He’s right there,” said our hero to Gascoigne as they 
walked away. 

When dinner was over, Jack narrated to the governor 
the adventures of Mesty, with which he was much inter- 
ested; but when they were quite alone in the evening, 
the governor called our two midshipmen into the ve- 
anda, and said : 

“Now, my lads, I’m not going to preach, as the saying 
is; but I’ve been long enough in tbe~ world to know that 
a compound fracture of the leg is not cured in fourteen or 
sixteen days. I ask you to tell me the truth. Did not 
you deceive Captain Wilson on this j)oint?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAS?. 


m 

“I am ashamed to say that we did, sir,” replied Easy. 

“How did you manage that, and why?” 

Jack then went into further details relative to himself 
and his amour, stating his wish to be left behind, and all 
that had passed. 

“Well, there’s some excuse for you, but none for the 
surgeons. If any surgeon here had played such a trick, 
I would have hung him, as sure as I’m governor. This 
affair of yours has become serious. Mr. Easy, we must 
have some conversation on the matter to-morrow morn- 
ing.” 

The next morning the packet from England was re- 
ported off the harbor’s mouth. After breakfast the 
letters were brought on shore, and the governor sent for 
our hero. 

“Mr. Easy, here are two letters for you, I am sorry to 
say with black seals. I trust that they do not bring the 
intelligence of the death of any very near relative.” 

Jack bowed without speaking, took the letters, and 
went to his room. The first he opened was from his 
father. 

“My Dear John: You will be much grieved to hear 
that your poor mother, after sitting in the corner for 
nearly two years waiting for the millennium, appeared to 
pine away, whether from disappointment or not, I do not 
know ; but at last, in spite of all Dr. Middleton could do, 
she departed this life; and as the millennium would not 
come to her as she expected, it is to be hoped she has 
gone to the milennium. She was a good wife, and I 
always let her have her own way. Dr. Middleton does 
not appear to be satisfied as to the cause of her death, and 
has wished to examine; but I said no, for I am a philoso- 
pher, and it is no use looking for causes after effects; but 
I have done since her death what she never would permit 
me to do during her life. I have had her head shaved, 
and examined it very carefully as a phrenologist, and most 
curiously has she proved the truth of the sublime science. 
I will give you the result: determination, very prominent; 
benevolence, small; caution, extreme; veneration, not 
very great; philoprogenitiveness, strange to say, is very 
large, considering she has but one child; imagination, 
very strong: you know, my dear boy, she was always 


§08 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN NAS?. 


imagining some nonsense or another. Her other organs 
were all moderate. Poor dear creature ! she is gone, and 
we may well wail, for a better mother or a better wife 
never existed. And now, my dear boy, I must request 
that you call for your discharge, and come home as soon 
^as possible. I cannot exist without you, and I require 
Jyour assistance in the grand work I have in contempla- 
tion. The time is at hand; the cause of equality will 
sqpn triumph; the abject slaves now hold up their heads; 
I have electrified them with my speeches, but I am get- 
ting old and feeble ; I require my son to leave my mantle 
to, as one prophet did to another, and then I will, like 
him, ascend in glory. 

“Your affectionate father, 

“Nicodemus Easy.” 

“From this it would appear,” thought Jack, “that my 
mother is dead and that my father is mad.” For some 
time our hero remained in a melancholy mood; he 
dropped many tears to the memory of his mother, whom, 
if he had never respected, he had much loved; and it was 
not till half an hour had elapsed that he thought of open- 
ing the other letter. It was from Dr. Middleton. 

“My Dear Boy: Although not a correspondent of 
yours, I take the right of having watched you through all 
your childhood, and from a knowledge of your disposition, 
to write you a few lines. That you have, by this time, 
discarded your father’s foolish, nonsensical philosophy, 
I am very sure. It was I who advised your going away 
for that purpose, and I am sure that, as a young man of 
sense, and the heir to a large property, you will before 
this have seen the fallacy of your father’s doctrines. Your 
father tells me that he has requested you to come home, 
and allow me to add any weight I may have with you, in 
persuading you to do the same. It is fortunate for you 
that the estate is entailed, or you might soon be a beggar, 
for there is no saying what debts he might in his mad- 
ness be guilty of. He has already been dismissed from 
the magistracy by the lord-lieutenant, in consequence of 
his haranguing the discontented peasantry, and, I may 
say, exciting them to acts of violence and insubordination. 
He has been seen dancing and hurrahing round a stack 
fired by an incendiary He lias turned away his keepers, 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


309 


and allowed all poachers to go over the manor. In short, 
he is not in his senses; and although I am far from ad- 
vising coercive measures, I do consider that it is absolutely 
necessary that you should immediately return home and 
look after what will one day he your property. You 
have no occasion to follow the profession with eight thou- 
sand pounds per annum. You have distinguished your- 
self, now make room for those who require it for their 
subsistence. God bless you. I shall soon hope to shake 
hands with you. 

“Yours most truly, G. Middleton.” 

There was matter for deep reflection in these two let- 
ters, and Jack never felt before how much his father had 
been in the wrong. That he had gradually been weaned 
from his ideas was true, but still he had, to a certain de- 
gree, clung to them, as we do to a habit; but now he felt 
that his eyes were opened; the silly, almost unfeeling 
letter of his father upon the occasion of his mother’s 
death opened his eyes. For a long while Jack was in a 
melancholy meditation, and then, casting his eyes upon 
his watch, he perceived that it was almost dinner-time. 
That he could eat his dinner was certain, and he scorned 
to pretend to feel what he did not. He therefore dressed 
himself and went down, grave, it is true, but not in tears. 
He spoke little at dinner, and retired as soon as it was 
over, presenting his two letters to the governor, and ask- 
ing his advice for the next morning. Gascoigne followed 
him, and to him he confided his trouble, and Ned, finding 
that Jack was very low-spirited, consoled him to the best 
of his power, and brought a bottle of wine which he pro- 
cured from the butler. Before they retired to bed, Jack 
had given his ideas to his friend, which were approved of, 
and wishing him good-night, he threw himself into bed 
and was soon fast asleep. 

“One thing is certain, my good fellow,” observed the 
governor to our hero as he gave him back his letters at 
the breakfast- table the next morning, “that your father 
is as mad as a March hare. I agree with that doctor, who 
appears a sensible man, that you had better go home im- 
mediately.” 

“And leave the service altogether, sir?” replied Jack. 

“Why, I must say, that I do not think you exactly fitted 


310 


MR. luiDSBlPMAN EASY. 


for tt. I shall be sorry to lose yon, as yon have a wonder- 
ful talent for adventnre, and I shall have no more yarns 
to hear when you return; but, if I understand right from 
Captain Wilson, you were brought into the profession 
because he thought that the service might be of use in 
eradicating false notions, rather than from any intention 
or necessity of your following it up as a profession/’ 

“I suspect that was the case, sir,” replied Jack; “as 
for my own part, I hardly know why I entered it. ’ 

“To find a mare’s nest, my lad; I’ve heard all about 
it; hut never mind that, the question is now about your 
leaving it, to look after your own property, and I think I 
may venture to say that I can arrange all that matter at 
once, without referring >to admiral or captain. I will be 
responsible for you, and you may go home in the packet 
which sails on Wednesday for England.” 

“Thank you, Sir Thomas, I am much obliged to you,” 
replied Jack. 

“You, Mr. Gascoigne, I shall, of course, send out by 
the first opportunity to rejoin your ship.” 

“Thank you, Sir Thomas, I am much obliged to you,” 
replied Gascoigne, making a bow. 

“You’ll break no more arms, if you please, sir,” con- 
tinued the governor; “a man in love may have some ex- 
cuse for breaking his leg, but you had none.” 

“I beg your pardon, sir; if Mr. Easy was warranted in 
breaking his leg out of love, I submit that I could do no 
less than break my arm out of friendship.” 

“Hold your tongue, sir, or I’ll break your head from 
the very opposite feeling,” replied the governor good- 
humoredly. “But observe, young man, I shall keep this 
affair secret, as in honor bound, but let me advise you, 
as you have only your profession to look to, to follow it up 
steadily. It is high time that you and Mr. Easy were 
separated. He is independent of the service, and you are 
not. A young man possessing such ample means will 
never be fitted for the duties of a junior officer. He can 
do no good for himself, and is certain to do much harm to 
others; a continuance of his friendship would probably end 
in your ruin, Mr. Gascoigne. You must be aware that if 
the greatest indulgence had not been shown to Mr. Easy 
by his captain and first lieutenant, he never could have 
remained in the service so long as he has done.” 


MM midshipman hast. 


m 


As tlie governor made the last remark in rather a severe 
tone, our two midshipmen were silent for a minute. At 
last Jack observed very quietly: 

‘‘And yet, sir, I think, considering all, I have behaved 
pretty well.” 

“You have behaved very well, my good lad, on all 
occasions in which your courage and conduct, as an offi- 
cer, have been called forth. I admit it; and had you 
been sent to sea with a mind properly regulated, and with- 
out such an unlimited command of money, I have no 
doubt but that you would have proved an ornament to the 
service. Even now I think you would, if you were to 
remain in the service under proper guidance and necessary 
restrictions, for yon have, at least, learned to obey, which 
is absolutely necessary before you are fit to command. 
But recollect, what would your conduct have brought 
upon you, if you had not been under the parental care of 
Captain Wilson? But let us say no more about that; a 
midshipman with the prospect of eight thousand pounds 
a year is an anomaly which the service cannot admit, 
especially when that midshipman is resolved to take to 
himself a wife.” 

“I hope that you approve of that step, sir.” 

“That entirely depends upon the merit of the party, 
which I know nothing of, except that she has a pretty 
face, and is of one of the best Sicilian families. I think 
the difference in religion a ground of objection.” 

“We will argue that point, sir,” replied Jack. 

“Perhaps it will be the cause of more argument than 
you think for, Mr. Easy; but every man makes his own 
bed, and as he makes it, so must he lie down in it.” 

“What am I to do about Mesty, sir? I cannot bear 
the idea of parting with him.” 

“I am afraid that you must; I cannot well interfere 
there.” 

“He is of little use to the service, sir; he has been sent 
to sick quarters as my servant; if he may be permitted to 
go home with me, I will procure his discharge as soon as I 
.arrive, and send him on board the guard-ship till I obtain 
it.” 

“I think that, on the whole, he is as well out of the serv- 
ice as in it, and therefore I will, on consideration, take 
upon myself the responsibility, provided you do as you 
say.” 


312 


MN MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


The conversation was here ended, as the governor had 
business to attend to, and Jack and Gascoigne went to 
their rooms to make their arrangements. 

“The governor is right/’ observed Gascoigne; “it is 
better that we part, Jack. You have half-unfitted me for 
the service already; I have a disgust of the midshipmen’s 
berth, the very smell of pitch and tar has become odious 
to me. This is all wrong; I must forget you and all our 
pleasant cruises on shore, and once more swelter in my 
greasy jacket. When I think that if our pretended acci- 
dents were discovered, I should be dismissed the service, 
and the misery which that would cause to my poor father, 
I tremble at my escape. The governor is right, Jack; we 
must part, but I hope you never will forget me.” 

“My hand upon it, Ned. Command my interest, if 
ever I have any — my money — what I have, and the house, 
whether it belongs to me or my father — as far as you are 
concerned, at least, I adhere to my notions of perfect 
equality.” 

“And abjure them, I trust, Jack, as a universal prin- 
ciple.” 

“I admit, as the governor asserts, that my father is as 
mad as a March hare.” 

“That is sufficient; you don’t know how glad it makes 
me to hear you say that.” 

The two friends were inseparable during the short time 
that they remained together. They talked over their 
future prospects, their hopes and anticipations, and when 
the conversation flagged Gascoigne brought up the name 
of Agnes. 

Mesty’s delight at leaving the service, and going home 
with his patron, was indescribable. He laid out a portion 
of his gold in a suit of plain clothes, white linen shirts, 
and in every respect the wardrobe of a man of fashion ; in 
fact, he was now a complete gentleman’s gentleman; was 
very particular in frizzing his woolly hair — wore a white 
neckcloth, gloves, and cane. Every one felt inclined to 
laugh when he made his appearance; but there was some- 
thing in Mesty’s look which, at all events, prevented their 
doing so before his face. The day for sailing arrived. 
Jack took leave of the governor, thanking him for his 
great kindness, and stating his intention of taking Malta 
in his way out to Palermo in a month or two. Gascoigne 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 

went on board with him, and did not go down the vespers 
side to return to shore till it was more than a mile clear 
of the harbor. 


CHAPTER XXXY. 

MR. EAST’S WONDERFUL INVENTION FULLY EXPLAINED 
BY HIMSELF, MUCH TO THE SATISFACTION OF OUR 
HERO, AND IT IS TO BE PRESUMED, TO THAT ALSO 
OF THE READER. 

At last the packet anchored in Falmouth Roads. Jack, 
accompanied by Mesty, was soon on shore with his lug- 
gage, threw himself into the mail, arrived in London, and 
waiting there two or three days to obtain what he con- 
sidered necessary from a fashionable tailor, ordered a 
chaise to Forest Hill. He had not written to his father 
to announce his arrival, and it was late in the morning 
when the chaise drew up at his father’s door. 

Jack stepped out and rang the bell. The servants who 
opened the door did not know him; they were not the 
same as those he left. 

“Where is Mr. Easy?” demanded Jack. 

“Who are you?” replied one of them in a gruff tone. 

“By de powers, you very soon find out who he is,” ob- 
served Mesty. 

“Stay here, and I’ll see if he is at home.” 

“Stay here! stay in the hall like a footman? What do 
you mean, you rascal?” cried Jack, attempting to push 
by the man. 

“Oh, that won’t do here, master; this is Equality Hall 
— one man’s as good as another.” 

“Not always,” replied Jack, knocking him down. 
“Take that for your insolence, pack up your traps, and 
walk out of the house to-morrow morning.” 

Mesty, in the mean time, had seized the other by tbe 
throat. 

“What I do with this fellow, Massa Easy?” 

“Leave him now, Mesty; we’ll settle their account to- 
morrow morning. I presume I shall find my father in 
the library.” 


814 


MR . MIDSHIPMAN EASY, 


“His father !” said one of the men to the other; “he*s 
not exactly a chip of the old block. ” 

“We shall have a change, I expect,” replied the other 
as they walked away. 

“Mesty,” cried Jack in an authoritative tone, “bring 
those two rascals back to take the luggage out of the 
chaise; pay the postilion, and tell the housekeeper to show 
you my room and yours. Come to me for orders as soon 
as you have done this.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Mesty. “Now come here, you 
d — mn blackguard, and take tings out of chaise, or by de 
holy poker I choke your luff, both of you.” 

The filed teeth, the savage look, and determination of 
Mesty, had the due effect. The men sullenly returned 
and unloaded the chaise. In the mean time Jack walked 
into his father’s study; his father was there — the study 
was lighted up with argand lamps, and Jack looked with 
astonishment. Mr. Easy was busy with a plaster cast of 
a human head, which he pored over, so that he did not 
perceive the entrance of his son. The cast of the skull 
was divided into many compartments, with writing on 
each; but what most astonished our hero was the altera- 
tion in the apartment. The book-cases and books had all 
been removed, and in the center, suspended from the ceil- 
ing, was an apparatus which would have puzzled any onv>-, 
composed of rods in every direction, with screws at the 
end of them, and also tubes in equal number, one of 
which communicated with a large air-pump which stood 
on a table. Jack took a short survey, and then walked 
up to his father and accosted him. 

“What!” exclaimed Mr. Easy, “is it possible? — yes, it 
is my son John! Pm. glad to see you, John — very glad 
indeed,” continued the old gentleman, shaking him by 
both hands — “very glad that you have come home: I 
wanted you — wanted your assistance in my great and glo- 
rious project, which, I thank Heaven, is now advancing 
rapidly. Very soon shall equality and the rights of man 
be proclaimed everywhere. The pressure from without 
is enormous, and the bulwarks of our ridiculous and tyran- 
nical constitution must give way. Kings, lords, and 
aristocrats; landholders, tithe-collectors, church and state, 
thank God, will soon be overthrown, and the golden age 
revived — the millennium, the true millennium — not what 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


315 


your poor mother talked about. I am at the head of 
twenty-nine societies, and if my health lasts, you will see 
what I will accomplish now that I have your assistance, 
Jack;” and Mr. Easy’s eyes sparkled and flashed in all 
the brilliancy of incipient insanity. 

Jack sighed, and to turn the conversation he observed: 
“You have made a great change in this room, sir. What 
may all this be for? Is it a machine to improve equality 
and the rights of man?” 

“My dear son,” replied Mr. Easy, sitting down, and 
crossing his legs complacently, with his two hands under 
his right thigh, according to his usual custom, when 
much pleased with himself — “why, my dear son, that is 
not exactly the case, and yet you have shown some degree 
of perception even in your guess; for if my invention 
succeeds, and I have no doubt of it, I shall have dis- 
covered the great art of rectifying the mistakes of nature, 
and giving an equality of organization to the whole 
species, of introducing all the finer organs of humanity, 
and of destroying the baser. It is a splendid invention, 
Jack, very splendid. They may talk of Gall and Spurz- 
heim, and all those; but what have they done? nothing 
but divided the brain into sections, classed the organs, 
and discovered where they reside; but what good result 
has been gained from that? the murderer by nature re- 
mained a murderer — the benevolent man a benevolent 
man — he could not alter his organization. I have found 
out how to change all that.” 

“Surely, sir, you would not interfere with the organ of 
benevolence?” 

“But indeed I must, Jack. I, myself, am suffering 
from my organ of benevolence being too large; I must 
reduce it, and then I shall be capable of greater things, 
shall not be so terrified by difficulties, shall overlook 
trifles, and only carry on great schemes for universal 
equality and the supreme rights of man. I have put my- 
self into that machine every morning for two hours, for 
these last three months, and I feel now that I am daily 
losing a great portion. ” 

“Will you do me the favor to explain an invention so 
extraordinary, sir?” said our hero. 

“Most willingly, my boy. You observe that in the 
center there is a frame to confine the human head, some- 


316 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


what larger than the head itself, and that the head rests 
upon the iron collar beneath. When the head is thus 
firmly fixed, suppose I want to reduce the size of any 
particular organ, I take the boss corresponding to where 
that organ is situated in the cranium, and fix it on it. 
For you will observe that all the bosses inside of the top 
of the frame correspond to the organs as described in this 
plaster cast on the table. I then screw down pretty tight, 
and increase the pressure daily until the organ disappears 
altogether, or is reduced to the size required.” 

“I comprehend that part, perfectly, sir,” replied Jack; 
“but now explain to me by what method you contrive to 
raise an organ which does not previously exist.” 

“That,” replied Mr. Easy, “is the greatest perfection 
of the whole invention, for without I could do that, I 
could have done little. I feel convinced that this inven- 
tion of mine will immortalize me. Observe all these little 
bell-glasses which communicate with the air-pump. I 
shave my patient’s head, grease it a little, and fix on the 
bell-glass, which is exactly shaped to fit the organ in 
length and breadth. I work the air-pump, and raise the 
organ by an exhausted receiver. It cannot fail. There is 
my butler, now; a man who escaped hanging last spring 
assizes on an undoubted charge of murder. I selected 
him on purpose; I have flattened down murder to nothing, 
and I have raised benevolence till it’s like a wen.” 

“I am afraid my poor father’s head is an exhausted 
receiver,” thought Jack, who then replied, “Well, sir, if 
it succeeds it will be a good invention.” 

“If it succeeds! — why, it has succeeded — it cannot fail. 
It has cost me near two thousand pounds. By the bye, 
Jack, you have drawn very liberally lately, and I had 
some trouble, with my own expenses, to meet your bills; 
not that I complain — but what with societies, and my 
machine, and tenants refusing to pay their rents, on the 
principle that the farms are no more mine than theirs, 
which I admit to be true, I have had some difficulty in 
meeting all demands.” 

“The governor was right,” thought Jack, who now in- 
quired after Dr. Middleton. 

“Ah, poor silly man! he’s alive yet — I believe doing 
well. He is one who will interfere with the business of 
others, complains of my servants — very silly man indeed 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


317 


--but I let him have his own way. So I did your poor 
mother. Silly woman, Mrs. Easy — but never mind fhat.” 

“If you please, sir, I have also a complaint to make of 
the servants for their insolence to me; hut we will ad- 
journ, if you please, as I wish to have some refreshment.” 

“Certainly, Jack, if you are hungry; I will go with 
you. Complain of my servants, say you?— there must he 
some mistake — they are all shaved, and wear wigs, and I 
put them in the machine every other morning; but I 
mean to make an alteration in one respect. You observe, 
Jack, it requires more dignity; we must raise the whole 
machinery some feet, ascend it with state as a throne, for 
it is the throne of reason, the victory of mind over nature. ” 

“As you please, sir; but I am really hungry just now.” 

Jack and his father went into the drawing-room and 
rang the bell; not being answered, Jack rose and rang 
again. 

“My dear sir,” observed Mr. Easy, “you must not be 
in a hurry; every man naturally provides for his own 
wants first, and afterward for those of others. Now my 
servants ” 

“Are a set of insolent scoundrels, sir, and insolence I 
never permit. I knocked one down as I entered your 
house, and, with your permission, I will discharge two, at 
least, to-morrow.” 

“My dear son,” exclaimed Mr. Easy, “you knocked my 
servant down! Are you not aware, by the laws of 
equality ” 

“I am aware of this, my dear father,” replied Jack, 
“that by all the laws of society we have a right to expect 
civility and obedience from those we pay and feed.” 

“Pay and feed! Why, my dear son — my dear Jack — 
you must recollect ” 

“I recollect, sir, very well; but if your servants do not 
come to their recollection in a very short time, either I or 
they must quit the house.” 

“But, my dear boy, have you forgotten the principles I 
instilled into you? Did you not go to sea to obtain that 
equality foiled by tyranny and despotism here on shore? 
Do you not acknowledge and support my philosophy?” 

“We’ll argue that point to-morrow, sir — at present I 
want to obtain my supper,” and Jack rang the bell 
furiously. 


318 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


The butler made his appearance at this last summons, 
and he was followed by Mesty, who looked like a demon 
with anger. 

“Mercy on me, whom have we here?” 

“My servant, father,” exclaimed Jack, starting up; 
“one that I can trust to, and who will obey me. Mesty, 
I wish some supper and wine to be brought immediately 
— see that scoundrel gets it ready in a moment. If he 
does not, throw him out of the door, and lock him out. 
You understand me.” 

“Yes, massa,” grinned Mesty; “now you hab supper 
very quick, or Mesty know the reason why. Follow me, 
sar,” cried Mesty, in an imperative tone to the butler; 
“quick, sar, or by de holy poker, I show you what Mesty 
can do;” and Mesty grinned in his wrath. 

“Bring supper and wine immediately,” said Mr. Easy, 
giving an order such as the butler had never heard since 
he had been in the house. 

The butler quitted the room followed by the Ashantee. 

“My dear boy — 'my Jack — I can make every allowance 
for hunger; it is often the cause of theft and crime in the 
present unnatural state of society — but really you are too 
violent. The principles ” 

“Your principles are all confounded nonsense, father,” 
cried Jack in a rage. 

“What! Jack— my son — what do I hear? This from 
you — nonsense! Why, Jack, what has Captain Wilson 
been doing with you?” 

“Bringing me to my senses, sir.” 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear! my dear Jack, you will certainly 
make me lose mine.” 

“Gone already!” thought Jack. 

“That you, my child, so carefully brought up in the 
great and glorious school of philosophy, should behave 
this way — should be so violent— forget your sublime phi- 
losophy, and all — just like Esau, selling your birthright 
for a mess of pottage. Oh, Jack, you’ll kill me! and yet 
I love you, Jack — whom else am I to love in this world? 
Never mind, we’ll argue the point, my boy, I’ll convince 
you — in a week all will be right again.” 

“it shall, sir, if I can manage it,” replied Jack. 

“That’s right, I love to hear you say so— that’s con- 
soling, very consoling— but I think now, I was wrong to 
let you go to sea, Jack.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


319 


“Indeed, yon were not, father.” 

“Well, I’m glad to hear you say so; I thought they had 
ruined you, destroyed all your philosophy; but it will be 
all right again: you shall come to our societies, Jack; I 
am president; you shall hear me speak, Jack; you shall 
hear me thunder like Demosthenes; but here comes the 
tray.” 

The butler, followed by Mesty, who attended him as if 
he was his prisoner, now made his appearance with the 
tray — laid it down in a sulky manner, and retired. Jack 
desired Mesty to remain. 

“Well, Mesty, how are they getting on in the servants’ 
hall?” 

“Regular mutiny, sar; ab swear dat dey no stand our 
nonsense, and dat we both leave the house to-morrow.” 

“Do you hear, sir? Your servants declare that I shall 
leave your house to-morrow.” 

“You leave my house, Jack, after four years’ absence! 
— no, no. I’ll reason with them; I’ll make them a 
speech. You don’t know how I can speak, Jack.”. 

“Look you, father, I cannot stand this; either give me 
a carte-Uanche to arrange this household as I please, or I 
shall quit it myself to-morrow morning.” 

“Quit my house, Jack! — no, no. Shake hands and 
make friends with them ; be civil, and they will serve 
you, but you. know upon the principles ” 

“Principles of the devil!” cried Jack in a rage. 

“Of the devil, Jack; dear me! I wish you had never 
gone to sea.” 

“In one word, sir, do you consent, or am I to leave the 
house?” 

“Leave the house! Oh, no! not leave the house, Jack. 
I have no son but you. Then do as you please ; but you 
must not send away my murderer, for I must have him 
cured, and shown as a proof of my wonderful invention.” 

“Mesty, get my pistols ready for to-morrow morning, 
and your own, too, do ye hear?” 

“All ready, massa,” replied Mesty; “I tink dat right.” 

“Right— pistols, Jack! What do you mean?” 

“It is possible, father, that you may not have yet quite 
cured your murderer, and therefore it is as well to be 
prepared. I will now wish you good-night; but before I 
go, you will be pleased to summon one of the servants, 


320 


MR MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


that he may inform the others that the household is under 
my control for the future.’’ 

The bell was again rung, and was this time answered 
with more expedition. Jack told the servant, in presence 
of his father, that with the consent of the latter, he should 
hereafter take the whole control of the establishment, and 
that Mesty would be the major domo from whom they 
would receive their orders. The man stared, and cast an 
appealing look to Mr. Easy, who hesitated, and at last 
said: 

“Yes, William; you’ll apologize to all, and say that I 
have made the arrangement.” 

“You apologize to none, sir,” cried Jack; “but tell 
them that I will arrange the whole business to-morrow 
morning. Tell the woman to come here and show me 
my bedroom. Mesty, get your supper and then come up 
to me; if they dare to refuse you, recollect who does, and 
point them out to-morrow morning. That will do, sir; 
away with you, and bring flat candlesticks.” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

IN WHICH JACK TAKES UP THE OTHER SIDE OF THE 
ARGUMENT, AND PROVES THAT HE CAN ARGUE AS 
WELL ON ONE SIDE AS THE OTHER. 

This scene may give some idea of the state of Mr. Easy’s 
household upon our hero’s arrival. The poor lunatic, 
for such we must call him, was at the mercy of his sevants, 
who robbed, laughed at, and neglected him. The waste 
and expense were enormous. Our hero, who found 
how matters stood, went to bed, and lay the best part of 
the night revolving what to do. He determined to send 
for Dr. Middleton, and consult him. 

The next morning Jack rose early; Mesty was in 
the room, with warm water, as soon as he rang. 

“By de power, Massa Easy, your fader very silly old 
man.” 

“I’m afraid so,” replied Jack. 

“He not right here,” observed Mesty, putting his 
fingers to his head. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


321 


Jack sighed, and desired Mesty to send one of the 
grooms up to the door. When the man knocked, he de- 
sired him to mount a horse and ride over to Dr. Middle- 
ton, and request his immediate attendance. 

. The man, who was really a good servant, replied, “Yes, 
sir,” very respectfully, and hastened away. 

Jack went down to breakfast, and found it all ready, 
but his father was not in the room ; he went to his study, 
and found him occupied with a carpenter, who was mak- 
ing a sort of frame as the model of the platform or dais to 
be raised under the wonderful invention. Mr. Easy was 
so busy that he could not come to breakfast, so Jack took 
his alone. An hour after this, Dr. Middleton’s carriage 
drove up to the door. The doctor heartily greeted our 
hero. 

“My dear sir — for so I suppose I must now call you — I 
am heartily glad that you have returned. I can assure 
you that it is not a moment too soon.” 

“I have found out that already, doctor,” replied Jack; 
“sit down. Have you breakfasted?” 

“Ho, I have not; for I was so anxious to see you that 
I ordered my carrriage at once.” 

“Then sit down, doctor, and we will talk over matters 
quietly.” 

“You, of course, perceive the state of your father. He 
has been some time quite unfit to manage his own affairs.” 

“So I am afraid.” 

“What do you intend to do, then — put them in the 
hands of trustees?” 

“I will be trustee for myself, Dr. Middleton. I 
could not do the other without submitting my poor father 
to a process, and confinement, which I cannot think of.” 

“I can assure you that there are not many in bedlam 
worse than he is; but I perfectly agree with you; that is, 
if he will consent to your taking charge of the property.” 

“A power of attorney will be all that is requisite,” re- 
plied Jack; “that is, as soon as I have rid the house of 
the set of miscreants who are in it; and who are now in 
open mutiny.” 

“I think,” replied the doctor, “that you will have some 
trouble. You know the character of the butler.” 

“Yes, I have it from my father’s own mouth. I really 
should take it as a great favor, Dr, Middleton, if you 


322 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


could stay here a day or two. I know that you have 
retired from practice.” 

“I would have made the same offer, my young friend. 
I will come here with two of my servants ; for you must 
discharge these.” 

“I have one of my own who is worth his weight in gold 
— that will he sufficient. I will dismiss every man you 
think I ought, and as for the women, we can give them 
warning, and replace them at leisure.” 

“That is exactly what I should propose,” replied the 
doctor. “I will now go, if you please, procure the assist- 
ance of a couple of constables, and also of your father’s 
former legal adviser, who shall prepare a power of at- 
torney.” 

“Yes,” replied Jack, “and we must then find out the 
tenants who refuse to pay, upon the principles of equality, 
and he shall serve them with notice immediately.” 

“I am rejoiced, my dear young friend, to perceive that 
your father’s absurd notions have not taken root.” 

“They lasted some time, nevertheless, doctor,” replied 
Jack, laughing. 

“Well, then, I will only quit you for an hour or two, 
and then, as you wish it, will take up my quarters here as 
long as you find me useful.” 

In the forenoon, Dr. Middleton again made his appear- 
ance, accompanied by Mr. Hanson, the solicitor, bringing 
with him his portmanteau and his servants. Mr. Easy 
had come into the parlor, and was at breakfast when they 
entered. He received them very coolly; but a little 
judicious praise of the wonderful invention Jhad its due 
effect; and after Jack had reminded him of his promise 
that in future he was to control the household, he was 
easily persuaded to sign the order for his so doing — that 
is, the power of attorney. 

Mr. Easy also gave up to Jack the key of his secretary, 
and Mr. Hanson . possessed himself of the books, papers, 
and receipts necessary to ascertain the state of his affairs, 
and the rents which had not yet been paid up. In the 
mean time the constables arrived. The servants were all 
summoned; Mr. Hanson showed them the power of at- 
torney, empowering Jack to act for his father, and in less 
than half an hour afterward, all the men-servants, but 
two grooms, were dismissed : the presence of the constables 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


m 


and Mesty prevented any resistance, but not without 
various threats on the part of the butler, whose name was 
O’Rourke. Thus, in twenty-four hours, Jack had made 
a reformation in the household. 

Mr. Easy took no notice of anything; he returned to 
his study and his wonderful invention. Mesty had re- 
ceived the keys of the cellar, and had now complete con- 
trol over those who remained. Dr. Middleton, Mr. Han- 
son, Mr. Easy, and Jack, sat down to dinner, and every- 
thing wore the appearance of order and comfort. Mr. 
Easy ate very heartily, but said nothing till after dinner, 
when, as was his usual custom, he commenced arguing 
upon the truth and soundness of his philosophy. 

“By the bye, my dear son, if I recollect right, you told 
me last night that you were no longer of my opinion. 
Now, if you please, we will argue this point.” 

“I’ll argue the point with all my heart, sir,” replied 
Jack; “will you begin?” 

“Let’s fill our glasses,” cried Mr. Easy triumphantly; 
“let’s fill our glasses, and then I will bring Jack back to 
the proper way of thinking. Now then, my son, I trust 
you will not deny that we were all born equal.” 

“I do deny it, sir,” replied Jack; “I deny it in toto — 
I deny it from the evidence of our own senses, and from 
the authority of Scripture. To suppose all men were 
born equal, is to suppose that they are equally endowed 
with the same strength, and with the same capacity of 
mind, which we know is not the case. I deny it from 
Scripture, from which I could quote many passages; but 
I will restrict myself to one — the parable of the talents 
‘To one he gave five talents, to another but one,’ hold- 
ing them responsible for the trust reposed in them. We 
are all intended to fill various situations in society, and 
are provided by Heaven accordingly.” 

“That may be,” replied Mr. Easy; “but that does not 
prove that the earth was not intended to be equally dis- 
tributed among all alike.” 

“I beg your pardon; the proof that that was not the 
intention of Providence is that that equality, allowing 
it to be put in practice, could never be maintained.” 

“Not maintained! — no, because the strong oppress the 
weak, tyrants rise up and conquer — men combine to do 
wrong.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


324 

“Not so, nay dear father; I say it could not be main- 
tained without the organization of each individual had 
been equalized, and several other points established. For 
instance, allowing that every man had, ab origine , a cer- 
tain portion of ground. He who was the strongest or the 
cleverest would soon cause his to yield more than others 
would, and thus the equality be destroyed. Again, if one 
couple had ten children, and another had none, then again 
would equality be broken in upon, as the land that 
supported two in the one instance would have to feed 
twelve in the other. You perceive, therefore, that with- 
out rapine or injustice, your equality could not be pre- 
served.” 

“But, Jack, allowing that there might be some diver- 
sity from such causes, that would be a very different 
thing from the present monstrous state of society, in 
which we have kings, and lords, and people rolling in 
wealth, while others are in a state of pauperism and 
obliged to steal for their daily bread.” 

“My dear father, I consider that it is to this inequality 
that society owes its firmest cementation, that we are en- 
abled to live in peace and happiness, protected by just 
laws, each doing his duty in that state of life to which he 
is called, rising above or sinking in the scale of society 
according as he has been intrusted with the five talents or 
the one. Equality can and does exist nowhere. We are 
told that it does not exist in heaven itself — how can it exist 
upon earth?” 

“But that is only asserted, Jack, and it is not proof 
that it ought not to exist.” 

“Let us argue the point, father, coolly. Let us examine 
a little what would be the effect if all was equality. 
Were all equal in beauty, there would be no beauty, for 
beauty is only by comparison — were all equal in strength, 
conflicts would be interminable — were all equal in rank, 
and power, and possessions, the greatest charms of exist- 
ence would be destroyed — generosity, gratitude, and half 
the finer virtues would be unknown. The first principle 
of our religion, charity, could not be practiced — pity 
would never be called forth — benevolence, your great 
organ, would be useless, and self-denial a blank letter. 
Were all equal in ability, there would be no instruc- 
tion, no talent, no genius- nothing to admire, nothing to 


Mr. midshipman easy. 


325 


copy, to respect — nothing to rouse emulation, or stimulate 
to praiseworthy ambition. Why, my dear father, what 
an idle, unprofitable, weary world would this be, if it were 
based on equality !” 

“But, allowing all that, Jack,” replied Mr. Easy, “and 
I will say you argue well in a bad cause, why should the 
inequality be carried so far? king and lords, for in- 
stance.” 

\ . “The most lasting and imperishable form of building 
is that of the pyramid, which defies ages, and to that may 
the most perfect form of society be compared. It is based 
upon the many, and rising by degrees, it becomes less as 
wealth, talent, and rank increase in the individual, until 
it ends at the apex, or monarch above aU- Yet each sev- 
eral stone from the apex to the base is necessary for the 
preservation of the structure, and fulfills its duty in its 
allotted place. Could you' prove that those at the summit 
possess the greatest share of happiness in this world, then, 
indeed, you have a position to argue on; but it is well 
known that such is not the case ; and provided he is of a 
contented mind, the peasant is more happy than the king, 
surrounded as the latter is by cares and anxiety.” 

“Very well argued, indeed, my dear sir,” observed Dr. 
Middleton. 

“But, my dear 'boy, there are other states of society 
than monarchy; we have republics and despotisms.” 

“We have, but how long do they last, compared to the 
first? There is a cycle in the changes which never varies. 
A monarchy may be overthrown by a revolution, and re- 
publicanism succeed, but that is shortly followed by des- 
potism, till after a time monarchy succeeds again by 
unanimous consent, as the most legitimate and equitable 
form of government; but in none of these do you find a 
single advance to equality. In a republic, those who 
govern are more powerful than the rulers in a restricted 
monarchy — a president is greater than a king, and next to 
a despot, whose will is law. Even in small societies you 
find that some will naturally take the lead and assume 
domination. We commence the system at school, when 
we are first thrown into society, and there we are taught 
systems of petty tyranny. There are some few points in 
which we can obtain equality in this world, and that 
equality can only be obtained under a well-regulated form 


326 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EAST, 


of society, and consists in an equal administration of jus- 
tice and of laws to which we have agreed to submit for the 
benefit of the whole — the equal right to live and not be 
permitted to starve, which has been obtained in this 
country. And when we are all called to account, we shall 
have equal justice. Now, my dear father, you have my 
opinion.” 

4 ‘Yes, my dear, this is all very well in the abstract; but 
how does it work?” 

“It works well. The luxury, the pampered state, the 
idleness — if you please, the wickedness of the rich, all 
contribute to the support, the comfort, and employment 
of the poor. You may behold extravagance, it is a vice; 
but that very extravagance circulates money, and the vice 
of one contributes to the happiness of many. The only 
vice which is not redeemed by producing commensurate 
good is avarice. If all were equal, there would be no 
arts, no manufactures, no industry, no employment. As 
it is, the inequality of the distribution of wealth may be 
compared to the heart, pouring forth the blood like a 
steam-engine through the human frame, the same blood 
returning from the extremities by the veins, to be again 
propelled, and keep up a healthy and vigorous circula- 
tion.” 

“Bravo, Jack!” said Dr. Middleton. ^Have you any- 
thing to reply, sir?” continued he, addressing Mr. Easy. 

“To reply, sir?” replied Mr. Easy, with scorn, “why, 
he has not given me half an argument yet — why, that 
black servant even laughs at him — look at him there, 
showing his teeth. Can he forget the horrors of slavery? 
can he forget the base, unfeeling lash? No, sir, he has 
suffered, and he can estimate the divine right of equality. 
Ask him now, ask him if you dare, Jack, whether he will 
admit the truth of your argument.” 

“Well, I’ll ask him,” replied Jack, “and I tell you 
candidly that he was once one of your disciples. Mesty, 
what’s your opinion of equality?” 

“Equality, Massa Easy?” replied Mesty, pulling up his 
cravat; “I say d — mn equality, now I major domo.” 

“The rascal deserves to be a slave all his life.” 

“True, I ab been slave — but I a prince in my own 
country — Massa Easy tell how many skulls I have.” 

“Skulls — skulls — do you know anything of the sublime 
science? are you a phrenologist?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 


“I know man’s skull very well in Ashantee country, 
anyhow.” 

4 ‘Then if you know that, you must be one. I had no 
idea that the science had extended so far — maybe it was 
brought from thence. I will have some talk with you to- 
morrow. This is very curious, Dr. Middleton, is it not?” 

“Very, indeed, Mr. Easy.” 

“I shall feel his head to-morrow after breakfast, and if 
there is anything wrong I shall correct it with my machine. 
By the bye, I have quite forgot, gentlemen ; you will ex- 
cuse me, but I wish to see what the carpenter has done 
for me, and after that I shall attend the meeting of the 
society. Jack, my boy, won’t you come and hear my 
speech?” 

“Thank you, sir, but I cannot well leave your friends.” 

Mr. Easy quitted the room. 

“Are you aware, my dear sir, that your father has 
opened his preserves to all the poachers?” said Mr. 
Hanson. 

“The devil he has!” 

“Yes, he has allowed several gangs of gypsies to locate 
themselves in his woods, much to the annoyance of the 
neighborhood, who sutler from their depredations,” con- 
tinued Diu- Middleton. 

“I find, by the receipts and books, that there is nearly 
two years’ rental of the estate due; some tenants have 
paid up in full, others not for four years. I reckon four- 
teen thousand pounds still in arrear.” 

“You will oblige me by taking immediate steps, Mr. 
Hanson, for the recovery of the sums due.” 

“Most certainly, Mr. John. I trust your father will not 
commit himself to-night as* he has done lately.” 

When they rose to retire Dr. Middleton took our hero 
by the hand. “You do not know, my dear fellow, what 
pleasure it gives me to find that, in spite of the doting of 
your mother and the madness of your father, you have 
turned out so well. It is very fortunate that you have 
come home; I trust you will now give up the profession.” 

“I have given it up, sir, which, by the bye, reminds 
me that 1 have not applied for either my discharge or that 
of my servant ; but I cannot spare time yet, so I shall not 
report myself.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASf. 


m 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO FINDS HIMSELF AN ORPHAN, AND 
RESOLVES TO GO TO SEA AGAIN, WITHOUT THE 
SMALLEST IDEA OF EQUALITY. 

The next morning, when they met at breakfast, Mr. 
Easy did not make his appearance, and Jack inquired of 
Mesty where he was. 

“They say down below that the old gentleman not come 
home last night.” 

“Did not come home!” said Dr. Middleton; “this must 
be looked to.” 

“He great rascal, dat butler man,” said Mesty to Jack; 
“but de old gentleman not sleep in his bed, dat for sure.” 

“Make inquiries when he went out,” said Jack. 

“I hope no accident has happened,” observed Mr. Han- 
son; “but his company has lately been very strange.” 

“Nobody see him go out, sar, last night,” reported 
Mesty. 

“ Very likely he is in his study,” observed Dr. Middle- 
ton; “he may have remained all night, fast asleep, by his 
wonderful invention.” 

“I’ll go and see,” replied Jack. 

Dr. Middleton accompanied him, and Mesty followed.. 
They opened the door, and beheld a spectacle which made 
them recoil with horror. There was Mr. Easy, with his 
head in the machine, the platform below fallen from un- 
der him, hanging, with his toes just touching the ground. 
Dr. Middleton hastened to him, and, assisted by Mesty 
and our hero, took him out of the steel collar which was 
round his neck; but life had been extinct for many hours, 
and, on examination, it was found that the poor old gen- 
tleman’s neck was dislocated. 

It was surmised that the accident must have taken 
place the evening before, and it was easy to account for 
it. Mr. Easy, who had had the machine raised four feet 
higher, for the platform and steps to be placed under- 
neath, must have mounted on the frame modeled by the 
carpenter for his work, and have fixed his head in, for the 
knob was pressed on his bump of benevolence. The 
framework, hastily put together with a few short nails. 


Mr. midshipman easy. 


329 


had given way with his weight, and the sudden fall had 
dislocated his neck. 

Mr. Hanson led away 'our hero, who was much shocked 
at this unfortunate and tragical end of his poor father, 
while Dr. Middleton ordered the body to be taken up into 
a bedroom, and immediately dispatched a messenger to 
the coroner of the county. Poor Mr. Easy had told his 
son but the day before that he felt convinced that this 
wonderful invention would immortalize him, and so it 
had, although not exactly in the sense that he anticipated. 

We must pass over the few days of sorrow, and closed 
shutters, which always are given to these scenes. The 
coroner’s inquest and the funeral over, daylight was again 
admitted, our hero’s spirits revived, and he found himself 
in possession of a splendid property, and his own master. 

He was not of age, it is true, for he wanted nine 
months; but on opening the will of his father, he found 
that Dr. Middleton was his sole guardian. Mr. Hanson, 
on examining and collecting the papers, which were in 
the greatest confusion, discovered bank-notes in different 
corners, and huddled up with bills and receipts, to the 
amount of two thousand pounds, and further, a check 
signed by Captain Wilson on his banker, for the thousand 
pounds advanced by Mr. Easy, dated more than fifteen 
months back. 

Dr. Middleton wrote to the Admiralty, informing them 
that family affairs necessitated Mr. John Easy, who had 
been left at sick quarters, to leave his majesty’s service, 
requesting his discharge from it forthwith. The A dm i- 
ralty was graciously pleased to grant the request, and lose 
the services of a midshipman. The Admiralty were also 
pleased to grant the discharge of Mesty, on the sum re- 
quired for a substitute being paid in. 

The gypsies were routed out of their abodes, and sent 
once more to wander. The gamekeepers were restored, 
the preserves cleared of all poachers, and the gentry of 
the county were not a little pleased at Jack’s succession, 
for they had wished that Mr. Easy’s neck had been broken 
long ago. The societies were dissolved, since now that 
Mr. Easy no longer paid for the beer, there was nothing 
to meet for. Cards and compliments were sent from all 
parts of the county, and every one was anxious that our 
hero should come of age, as then he would be able to 


m 


MM. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


marry, to give dinners, subscribe to the foxhounds, and 
live as a gentleman ought to do. 

But during all these speculations, Jack had made Dr. 
Middleton acquainted with the history of his amour with 
Agnes de Rebiera, and all particulars connected there- 
with, also with his determination to go out to bring her 
home as his wife. Dr. Middleton saw no objection to the 
match, and he perceived that our hero was sincere. And 
Jack had made inquiries when the packet would sail for 
Malta, when Mesty, who stood behind his chair, observed: 

“Packet bad vessel, Massa Easy. Why not go out in 
man-of-war ?” 

“Very true,” replied Jack; “but you know, Mesty, 
that is not so easy.” 

“And den how come home, sar? Suppose you and 
Missy Agnes taken prisoner — put in prison?” 

“Very true,” replied Jack; “and as for a passage home 
in a man-of-war, that will be more difficult still.” 

“Den I tink, sar, suppose you buy one fine vessel — 
plenty of guns — take out letter of marque — plenty of 
men, and bring Missy Agnes home like a lady. You cap- 
tain of your own ship.” 

“That deserves consideration, Mesty,” replied Jack, 
who thought of it during that night; "and the next day 
resolved to follow Mesty’s advice. The Portsmouth paper 
lay on the breakfast-table. Jack took it up, and his eve 
was caught by an advertisement for the sale of the Joan 
d’Arc, prize to H.M. ship Thetis, brigantine of two hun- 
dred and seventy-eight tons, copper-bottomed, armed en 
flute, with all her stores, spars, sails, running and standing 
rigging, then lying in the harbor of Portsmouth, to 
take place on the following Wednesday. 

Jack rang the bell, and ordered post-horses. 

“Where are you going, my dear boy?” inquired Dr. 
Middleton. 

“To Portsmouth, doctor.” 

“And pray what for, if not an impertinent question?” 

Jack then gave Dr. Middleton an insight into his plan, 
and requested that he would allow him to do so, as there 
was plenty of ready-money. 

“But the expense will be enormous.” 

“It will be heavy, sir, I grant; but I have calculated it 
pretty nearly, and I shall not spend at the rate of more 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


331 

than my income. Besides, as letter of marque, I shall 
have the right of capture; in fact, I mean to take out a 
privateer’s regular license.” 

“But not to remain there and cruise?” 

“No, upon my honor; I am too anxious to get home 
again. You must not refuse me, my dear guardian.” 

“As a lady is in the case I will not, my dear hoy; hut 
be careful what you are about.” 

“Never fear, sir, I will be back in four months at the 
furthest; but I must now set off and ascertain if the vessel 
answers the description given in the advertisement.” 

Jack threw himself into the chariot. Mesty mounted 
into the rumble, and in two hours they were at Ports- 
mouth; went to the agent, viewed the vessel, which 
proved to be a very fine fast-sailing craft, well found, 
with six brass carronades on each side. The cabins were 
handsome, fitted up with bird’s-eye maple, and gilt 
moldings. 

“This will do,” thought Jack; “a couple of long brass 
nines, forty men and six boys, and she will be just the 
thing we require.” So Mesty and Jack went on shore 
again, and returned to Forest Hill to dinner, when he de- 
sired Mr. Hanson to set olf for Portsmouth, and bid at 
the sale fgr the vessel, as he wished to purchase her. 
This was Monday, and on Wednesday Mr. Hanson pur- 
chased her, as she stood, for £1,750, which was considered 
d,bout half her value. 

Dr. Middleton had in the mean time been thinking very 
seriously of Jack’s project. He could see no objection to 
it, provided that he was steady and prudent, but in both 
these qualities Jack had not exactly been tried. He 
therefore determined to look out for some steady naval 
lieutenant, and make it a sine qud non that our hero 
should be accompanied by him, and that he should go out 
as sailing master. Now that the vessel was purchased, 
he informed Jack of his wish ; indeed, as Dr. Middleton 
observed, his duty as guardian demanded this precaution, 
and our hero, who felt very grateful to Dr. Middleton, 
immediately acquiesced. 

“And, by the bye, doctor, see that he is a good navi- 
gator; for although I can fudge a day’s work pretty well, 
latterly I have been out of practice.” 

Every one was now busy. Jack and Mesty at Ports- 


332 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


month, fitting out the vessel, and offering three guineas a 
head to the crimps for every good able seaman; Mr. Han- 
son obtaining the English register, and the letters of 
license, and Dr. Middleton in search of a good naval dry- 
nurse. Jack found time to write to Don Philip and 
Agnes, apprising them of the death of his father, and his 
intentions. 

In about six weeks all was ready, and the brigantine, 
which had taken out her British register and license 
under the name of the Bebiera, went out of harbor, and 
anchored at Spithead. Dr. Middleton had procured, as 
he thought, a very fit person to sail with Jack, and our 
hero and Mesty embarked, wishing the doctor and solic- 
itor a good-by, and leaving them nothing to do but to pay 
the bills. 

The person selected by Dr. Middleton, by the advice of 
an old friend of his, a purser in the navy, who lived at 
Southsea, was a Lieutenant Oxbelly, who, with the ship’s 
company, which had been collected, received our hero as 
their captain and owner upon his arrival on board. There 
certainly was no small contrast between our hero’s active 
slight figure and handsome person, set off with a blue 
coat, something like the present yacht-club uniform, and 
that of his second in command, who waddled to the side 
to receive him. He was a very short man, with an un- 
common protuberance of stomach, with shoulders and 
arms too short for his body, and hands much too large, 
more like the paws of a polar bear than anything else. 
He wore trousers, shoes, and buckles. On his head was 
a foraging cap, which, when he took it off, showed that 
he was quite bald. His age might be about fifty-five or 
sixty; his complexion florid, no whiskers, and little beard, 
nose straight, lips thin, teeth black with chewing, and 
always a little brown dribble from the left corner of his 
mouth (there was a leak there, he said). Altogether his 
countenance was prepossessing, for it was honest and 
manly, but his waist was preposterous. 

Steady enough, thought Jack, as he returned Mr. Ox- 
belly’s salute. 

“How do you do, sir?” said Jack; “I trust we shall be 
good shipmates,” for Jack had not seen him before. 

“Mr. Easy,” replied the lieutenant, “I never quarrel 
with any one, except (I won’t tell a story) with my # wife.” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


333 


“I am sorry that you have ever domestic dissensions, 
Mr. Oxbelly.” 

“And I only quarrel with her at night, sir. She will 
take up more than her share of the bed, and won’t allow 
me to sleep single; but never mind that, sir; now will 
you please to muster the men?” 

“If you please, Mr. Oxbelly.” 

The men were mustered, and Jack made them a long 
speech upon subordination, discipline, activity, duty, and 
so forth. 

“A very good speech, Mr. Easy,” said Mr. Oxbelly as 
the men went forward; “I wish my wife had heard it. 
But, sir, if you please, we’ll now get under weigh as fast 
as we can, for there is a channel cruiser working up at St. 
Helen’s, and we may give him the go-by by running 
through the Needles.” 

“But what need we care for the channel cruiser?” 

“You forget, sir, that as soon as she drops her anchor, 
she will come on board and take a fancy to at least ten of 
our men.” 

“But they are protected.” 

“Yes, sir; but there’s no protection nowadays. I have 
sailed in a privateer at least three years, and I know that 
they have no respect for letters of marque or for priva- 
teers.” ^ 

“I believe you are right, Mr. Oxbelly; so if you please, 
we will up with the anchor at once.” 

The crew of the Rebiera had been well chosen; they 
were prime men-of-war’s men, most of whom had deserted 
from the various ships on the station, and, of course, were 
most anxious to be olf. In a few minutes the Rebiera 
was under weigh, with all sail set below and aloft. She 
was in excellent trim, and flew through the water; the 
wind was fair, and by night they had passed Portland 
Lights, and the next morning were steering a course for 
the Bay of Biscay, without having encountered what they 
feared more than an enemy, a British cruiser to overhaul 
them. 

“I think we shall do now, sir,” observed Mr. Oxbelly 
to our hero; “we have made a famous run. It’s twelve 
o’clock, and if you please I’ll work the latitude, and let 
you know what it is. We must shape our course so as 
not to run in with the Brest squadron. A little more 


334 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


westing, sir. I’ll be up in one minute. My wife-— but 
I’ll tell you about that when I come up. Latitude 41° 
12', sir. I was about to say that my wife, when she 
was on board of the privateer that I commanded ” 

“Board of the privateer, Mr. Oxbelly?” 

“Yes, sir, would go; told her it was impossible, but she 
wouldn’t listen to reason; came on board, flopped herself 
into the standing bed-place, and said that there she was 
for the cruise — little Billy with her ” 

“What, your child, too?” 

“Yes, two years old — fine boy — always laughed wheil 
the guns were fired, while his mother stood on the ladder 
and held him on the top of the booby-hatch.” 

“I wonder that Mrs. Oxbelly let you come here now.” 

“So you would, sir, but I’ll explain that — she thinks 
I’m in London about my half-pay. She knows all by 
this time, and frets, I don’t doubt; but that will make 
her thin, and there will be more room in the bed. Mrs. 
Oxbelly is a very stout woman.” 

“Why, you are not a little man!” 

“No, not little — tending to be lusty, as the saying is — 
that is, in good condition. It’s very strange that Mrs. 
Oxbelly has an idea that she is not large. I cannot per- 
suade her to it. That’s the reason we always spar in bed. 
She says it is I, and I know that it is she, who takes the 
largest share of it.” 

“Perhaps you may both be right.” 

“No, no, it is she who creates all the disturbance. If 
I get nearer to the wall she jams me up till I am as thin as 
a thread-paper. If I put her inside and stay outside, she 
cuts me out as you do a cask, by the chine, till I tumble 
out of bed.” 

“Why don’t you make your bed larger, Mr. Oxbelly?” 

“Sir, I have proposed, but my wife will have it that 
the bed is large enough if I would not toss in my sleep. 
I can’t convince her. However, she’ll have it all to her- 
self now. I slept well last night, for the first time since 
I left the Boadicea.” 

“The Boadicea?” 

“Yes, sir, I was second lieutenant of the Boadicea for 
three years.” 

“She’s a fine frigate, I’m told.” 

“On the contrary, such a pinched-up little craft below 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


335 


I never saw. Why, Mr. Easy, I conld hardly get into the 
door of my cabin — and yet, as yon must see, Pm not a 
large man.” 

“Good heavens! is it possible,” thought Jack, “that 
this man does not really know that he is monstrous?” 

Yet such was the case. Mr. Oxbelly had no idea that 
he was otherwise than in good condition, although he had 
probably not seen his knees for years. It was his obesity 
that was the great objection to him, for in every other 
point, there was nothing against him. He had, upon one 
pretense and another, been shifted, by the maneuvers of 
the captains, out of different ships, until he went up to 
the Admiralty to know if there was any charge against 
him. The first lord at once perceived the charge to be 
preferred, and made a mark against his name as not fit 
for anything but harbor duty. Out of employment, he 
had taken the command of a privateer cutter, when 
his wife, who was excessively fond, would, as he said, fol- 
low him with little Billy. He was sober, steady, knew 
his duty well; but he weighed twenty-six stone, and his 
weight had swamped him in the service. 

His wish, long indulged, had become, as Shakespeare 
says, the father of his thought, and he had really at last 
brought himself to think that he was not by any means 
what could be considered a fat man. His wife, as he 
said, was also a very stout woman, and this exuberance of 
flesh on both sides was the only, but continual, ground of 
dispute. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

IN WHICH OUR HERO, AS USUAL, GETS INTO THE VERY 
MIDDLE OF IT. 

On the eleventh day the Rebiera entered the straits, 
and the rock of Gibraltar was in sight as the sun went 
down; after which the wind fell light, and about mid- 
night it became calm, and they drifted up. At sunrise 
they were roused by the report of heavy guns, and per- 
ceived an English frigate about eight miles further up 
the straits and more in the mid-channel, engaging nine or 
ten Spanish gun-boats ? which had come out from Algesiras 


336 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


to attack her. It still continued a dead calm, and the 
boats of the frigate were all ahead towing her, so as to 
bring her broadside to hear upon the Spanish flotilla. 
The reverberating of the heavy cannon on both sides over 
the placid surface of the water — the white smoke ascend- 
ing as the sun rose in brilliancy in a clear blue sky — the 
distant echoes repeated from the high hills — had a very 
beautiful effect for those who are partial to the pic- 
turesque. But Jack thought it advisable to prepare for 
action instead of watching for tints — and, in a short time, 
all was ready. 

“They’ll not come to us, Mr. Easy, as long as they 
have the frigate to hammer at; but still we had better be 
prepared, for we cannot well pass them without having a 
few shot. When I came up the straits in the privateer, 
we were attacked by two, and fought them for three 
hours; their shot dashed the water over our decks till 
they were wet fore and aft, but somehow or another they 
never hit us — we were as low as they were. I’ll be bound, 
but they’ll hull the frigate, though. Mrs. Oxbelly and 
Billy were on deck the whole time — and Billy was quite 
delighted, and cried when they took him down to break- 
fast.” 

“Why, Mrs. Oxbelly must be very courageous.” 

“Cares neither for shot nor shell, sir — laughs when they 
whiz over her head, and tells Billy to hark. But, sir, it’s 
not surprising; her father is a major, and her two 
brothers are lieutenants in the bombardiers.” 

“That, indeed,” replied Jack — “but see, there is a 
breeze springing up from the westward.” 

“Very true, Mr. Easy, and a steady one it will be, for 
it comes up dark and slow; so much the better for the 
frigate, for she’ll get little honor and plenty of mauUtig 
at this work.” 

“I hope we shall take it up with us,” observed Jack; 
“how far do you reckon the gun-boats from the shore?” 

“I should think about five miles, or rather less.” 

“Trim sails, Mr. Oxbelly — perhaps we may cut one or 
two of these off — steer in shore of them.” 

“Exactly. Up there, my lads, set topgallant studding 
sails, topmast studdings to hand — rig out the booms — 
keep as you go now, my lad — we shall be well in shore of 
them, and out of the range of the batteries,” 


337 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 

The breeze came down fresh, and all sail was set upon 
the Rebiera. She took the wind down with her, and it 
passed hel* but little — half a mile ahead of them all was 
still and smooth as a glass mirror, and they neared and 
gained in shore at the same time. The gun-boats were 
still engaging the frigate, and did not appear to pay any 
attention to the Rebiera coming down. At last the breeze 
reached them and the frigate, light at first and then 
gradually increasing, while the Rebiera foamed through 
the waters and had now every chance of cutting oil some 
of the gun-boats. The frigate trimmed her sails and 
steered toward the flotilla, which now thought proper to 
haul off and put their heads in shore, followed by the 
frigate firing her bow-chasers. But the Rebiera was now 
within half gun-shot in shore, and steering so as to inter- 
cept them. As she rapidly closed, the flotilla scarcely 
knew how to act; to attack her would be to lose time, 
and allow the frigate to come up and occasion their own 
capture; so they satisfied themselves with firing at her as 
she continued to run down between them and the land. 
As they neared, Jack opened fire with his eighteen- 
pound carronades and long nines. The gun-boats re- 
turned hi§ fire, and they were within a quarter of a mile, 
when Jack shortened sail to his topsails, and a warm 
engagement took place, which ended in one of the gun- 
boats being, in a few minutes, dismasted. The frigate, 
under all canvas, came rapidly up, and her shot now fell 
thick. The flotilla then ceased firing, passing about two 
cables’ lengths ahead of the Rebiera, and making all pos- 
sible sail for the land. Jack now fired at the flotilla as 
they passed, with his larboard broadside, while with his 
starboard he poured in grape and canister upon the un- 
fortunate gun-boat which was dismasted, and which soon 
hauled down her colors. In a few minutes more the re- 
mainder were too far distant for the carronades, and, as 
they did not fire, Jack turned his attention to take posses- 
sion of his prize, sending a boat with ten men on board, 
and heaving-to close to her to take her in tow. Ten 
minutes more and the frigate was also hove-to a cable’s 
length from the Rebiera, and our hero lowered down his 
other quarter boat to go on board. 

“Have we any men hurt, Mr. Oxbelly?” inquired Jack. 

“Only two; Spearling has lost his thumb with a piece 
Qf langrage, and James has a bad wound in the thighs 


338 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


“Very well; I will ask for the surgeon to come on 
board.” 

Jack pulled to the frigate and went up the side, touched 
his hat in due form, and was introduced by the midship- 
men to the other side, where the captain stood. 

“Mr. Easy!” exclaimed the captain. 

“Captain Sawbridge!” replied our hero with surprise. 

“Good heavens! what brought you here?” said the cap- 
tain; “and what vessel is that?” 

“The Rebiera, letter of marque, commanded and owned 
by Mr. Easy,” replied Jack, laughing. * 

Captain Sawbridge gave him his hand. “Come down 
with me in the cabin, Mr. Easy; I am very glad to see 
you. Give you great credit for your conduct, and am 
still more anxious to know what has induced yoh to come 
out again. I knew that you had left the service.” 

Jack, in a very few words, told his object in fitting out 
the Rebiera; “but,” continued Jack, “allow me to con- 
gratulate you upon your promotion, which I was not aware 
pf. May I ask where you left the Harpy, and what is the 
name of your frigate?” 

“The Latona; I have only been appointed to her one 
month, after an action in which the Harpy took a large 
corvette, and am ordered home with dispatches to Eng- 
land. We sailed yesterday evening from Gibraltar, were 
becalmed the whole night, and attacked this morning by 
the gun-boats.” 

“How is Captain AYilson, sir?” 

“I believe he is very well, but I have not seen him.” 

“How did you know then that I had left the service, 
Captain Sawbridge?” 

“From Mr. Gascoigne, who is now on board.” 

“Gascoigne!” exclaimed our hero. 

“Yes, he was sent up to join the Aurora by the gov- 
ernor, but she had left the fleet, and having served his 
time, and a passing day being ordered, he passed, and 
thought he might as well go home with me and see if he 
could make any interest for his promotion.” 

“Pray, Captain Sawbridge, is the gun-boat our prize or 
yours?” 

“It ought to be wholly yours; but the fact is, by the 
regulations, we share.” 

“With all my heart, sir. Will you send an assistaut 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


339 


surgeon on board to look after two of my men who are 
hurt?” 

“Yes, directly; now send your boat away, Easy, with 
directions to your officer in command. We must go back 
to Gibraltar, for we have received some injury, and, I am 
sorry to say, lost some men. You are going then, I pre- 
sume, to stay on board and dine with me; we shall be al 
anchor before night.” 

“I will, with pleasure, sir. But now I will send my 
boat away and shake hands with Gascoigne.” 

Gascoigne was under the half-deck waiting to receive 
his friend, for he had seen him come up the side from his 
station on the forecastle. A hurried conversation took 
place, after our hero had dismissed his boat with the assist- 
ant surgeon in it to dress the two wounded men. Jack 
then went on deck, talked with the officers, looked with 
pleasure at the Kebiera with the gun-boat in tow, keeping 
company with the frigate, although only under the same 
canvas, promised Gascoigne to spend the next day with 
him either on shore or on board of the Kebiera, and then 
returned to the cabin, where he had a long conference 
with Captain Sawbridge. 

“When you first entered the service, Easy,” said Cap- 
itain Sawrbidge, “I thought that the sooner the service 
was rid of you the better; now that you have left it, I feel 
that it has lost one who, in all probability, would have 
proved a credit to it.” 

“Many thanks, sir,” replied Jack; “but how can I be 
a midshipman with eight thousand pounds a year?” 

“I agree with you, that it is impossible — but dinner is 
serving; go into the after-cabin, and the steward will give 
you all you require.” 

Our hero, whose face and hands were not a little grimed 
with the gunpowder, washed himself, combed out his 
curly black hair, and found all the party in the fore- 
cabin. Gascoigne, who had not been asked in the fore 
noon, was, by the consideration of Captain Sawbridge, 
added to the number. Before dinner was long off the table, 
the first lieutenant reported that it was necessary to turn 
the hands up, as they were close to the anchorage. The 
party, therefore, broke up sooner than otherwise would 
have been the case. And as soon as the Latona’s sails 
were furled Captain Sawbridge went on shore to acquaint 
the governor with the results of the action. He asked 


340 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 

) 


Jack to accompany him, bnt onr hero, wishing to be with 
Gascoigne, excused himself until the next day. 

“And now, Easy, 5 ’ said Gascoigne, as soon as the cap- 
tain had gone over the side, “I will ask permission to go 
on board with you — or will you ask?” 

“I will ask,” replied Jack; “a gentleman of fortune 
vhas more weight with a first lieutenant than a midship* 
iman.” 

So Jack went to the first lieutenant, and with one of 
his polite hows hoped, “if duty would permit, he would 
honor him by coming on board that evening with some of 
his officers, to see the Rebiera, and to drink a bottle or 
two of champagne.” 

The first lieutenant, as the Rebiera was anchored not 
two cables’ length from him, replied, that “as soon as he 
had shifted the prisoners and secured the gun-boat, he 
would be very glad;” so did three or four more of the 
officers, and then Jack begged as a favor that his old 
friend, Mr. Gascoigne, might be permitted to go with him 
now, as he had important packages to intrust to his care 
to England. The first lieutenant was very willing, and 
Gascoigne and our hero jumped into the boat, and were 
once more in all the confidence of tried and deserved 
friendship. 

“Jack, I’ve been thinking of it, and I’ve made up my 
mind,” said Gascoigne. “I shall gain little or nothing by 
going home for my promotion; I may as well stay here, 
and as I have served my time and passed, my pay is now 
of little consequence. Will you take me with you?” 

“It is exactly what I was thinking of, Ned. Do you 
think that Captain Sawbridge will consent?” 

“I do; he know r s how I am circumstanced, and that my 
going home was merely because I was tired of looking 
after the Aurora.” 

“We’ll go together and ask him to-morrow,” replied 
Jack. 

“At all events, you’ll have a more gentlemanly com- 
panion than Mr. Oxbelly.” 

“But not so steady, Ned.” 

The first lieutenant and officers came on board and passed 
a merry evening. There’s nothing passes time more 
agreeably away than champagne, and if you do not affront 
this regal wine by mixing him with any other, he never 
punishes you next mor^ng. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN MAST. 


341 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

A COUNCIL OF WAR, IN WHICH JACK DECIDES THAT HE 
WILL HAVE ONE MORE CRUISE. 

As Captain Sawbridge did not return on board that 
evening, Easy went on shore and called upon him at the 
governor’s, to whom he was introduced, and received an 
invitation to dine with him. As Gascoigne could not 
come on shore, our hero took this opportunity of making 
his request to Captain Sawbridge, stating that the person 
he had with him was not such as he wished and could con- 
fide everything to; that is, not one to whom he could talk 
about Agnes. Jack, as he found that Captain Saw- 
bridge did not immediately assent, pressed the matter 
hard ; at last Captain Sawbridge, who reflected that Gas- 
coigne’s interest hereafter would be much greater through 
his friend Easy than any other quarter, and that the 
more the friendship was cemented the more advantageous 
it might proye to Gascogine, gave his consent to our 
hero’s wish, who called on board of the Latona to ac- 
quaint Gascoigne and the first lieutenant of Captain Saw- 
bridge’s intentions, and then went on board of the Rebiera 
and ordered Mesty to come with his portmanteau on shore 
to the inn, that he might dress for dinner. Gascoigne, 
now considered as not belonging to the Latona, was per- 
mitted to accompany him; and Jack found himself look- 
ing out of the window at which he had hung out his 
trousers upon the memorable occasion when the boatswain 
had to follow his own precept of duty before decency. 

< “What scenes of adventures I have passed through 
since that,” thought Jack; “not much more than four 
years ago, then not three weeks in the service.” Where- 
upon Jack fell into a deep reverie, and thought of the 
baboon and of Agnes. 

The repairs of the Latona were all made good by the 
next day, and Gascoigne having received his discharge- 
ticket, went on board of the Rebiera. The gun-boat was 
put into the hands of the agent, and shortly afterward 
purchased by the government. The Rebiera’s crew did 
not, however, obtain their prize-money and share of the 
head-money, for she had seventy men on board, until 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


m 

their return, but, as they said, they had broken the ice, 
and that was everything. Moreover, it gave them confi- 
dence in themselves, in their vessel, and in their com- 
mander. Our hero weighed a short time after the La- 
tona, having first taken leave of Captain Sawbridge, and 
committed to his care a letter to Dr. Middleton. 

Once more behold the trio together — the two midship- 
men hanging over the taffrail, and Mesty standing by 
them. They had rounded Europa Point, and with a fine 
breeze off the land, were lying close-hauled along the 
Spanish shore. Mr. Oxbelly was also walking near them. 

“When I was cruising here it was very different,” ob- 
served Jack; “I had a vessel which I did not know how 
to manage, a crew which I could not command, and had 
it not been for Mesty, what would have become of me?” 

“Massa Easy, you know very well how to get out of 
scrapes, anyhow.” 

“Yes, and how to get into them,” continued Gascoigne. 

“And how to get others out of them, too, Ned.” 

“ ‘No more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me,’ ” quoted 
Gascoigne. “I have often wondered what has been the 
lot of poor Azar.” 

“The lot of most women, Ned, in every country — prized 
at first, neglected afterward — the lot she might have had 
with you.” 

“Perhaps so,” replied Ned, with a sigh. 

“Massa Easy, you get eberybody out of scrape; you get 
me out of scrape.” 

“I do not recollect how, Mesty.” 

“You get me out from boil kettle for young gentlemen 
— dat devil of scrape.” 

“And I’m sure I’ve got you out of a scrape, Mr. 
Oxbelly.” 

“How so, Mr. Easy?” 

“How so!— have I not prevented your quarreling with 
your wife every night?” 

“Certainly, sir, you have been the means. But do you 
know when we were engaging the other day, I could not 
help saying to myself, ‘I wish my wife was here now, • 
holding little Billy at the hatchway.’ ” 

“But at night, Mr. Oxbelly?” 

“At night! why, then I’m afraid I should have wished 
her home again; it’s astonishing how comfortable I sleep 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


34‘Z 


now every night. Besides, in this climate it would be 
intolerable. Mrs. Oxbelly is a very large woman — very 
large indeed.” 

“Well, but now we must hold a council of war. Are 
we to run up the coast, or to shape a course direct for 
Palermo ?’•’ 

“Course direct, and we shall take nothing, that is cer 
tain,” said Gascoigne. 

“If we take nothing, we shall make no prize-money,” 
continued Oxbelly. 

“If we make no prize-money, the men will be discon- 
tented,” said Easy. 

“If no ab noting to do, it will be d d ’tupid,” con- 

tinued Mesty. 

“Now, then, the othe'r side of the question. If we 
steer for Palermo, we shall be sooner there and sooner 
home.” 

“To which I reply,” said Gascoigne, “that the shorter 
the cruise is, the less I shall have of your company.” 

“And I shall have to sleep with Mrs. Oxbelly,”' con- 
tined Oxbelly. 

“Hab finiT ship, fine gun, fine men, and do noting!” 
cried Mesty. “By de power, I no like dat, Massa Easy.” 

“You ^vant eight months of coming of age, Jack,” oh 
served Gascoigne. 

“It won’t make a difference of more than three or 
four weeks,” said Mr. Oxbelly; “and the expenses have 
been very great.” 

“But-— — ” 

“But what, Jack?” 

“Agnes.” 

“Agnes will be better defended going home by men 
who have been accustomed to be in action. And, as for 
her waiting a little longer, it will only make her love you 
a little more.” 

“Sleep single a little longer, Mr. Easy; it’s very 
pleasant,” said Mr. Oxbelly. 

“That’s not very bad advice of yours,” observed Gas- 
coigne. 

“ Stop a little , Massa Easy,” said Mesty, “you know dat 
very good advice.” 

“Well, then,” replied Jack, “I will, as I am quite in 
the minority. We will work up the whole coast — up to 


344 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


Toulon. After all, there’s something very pleasant in 
commanding your own ship, and I’m not in a hurry to 
resign it, so that point’s decided.” 

The Rebiera was steered in to the land, and at sunset 
they were not four miles from the lofty blue mountains 
which overhang the town of Malaga. There were many 
vessels lying at the bottom of the bay, close in with the 
town ; the wind now fell light, and the Rebiera, as she 
could not fetch the town, tacked as if she were a merchant 
vessel standing in, and showed American colors, a hint 
which they took from perceiving three or four large ves- 
sels lying in the outer roads, with the colors of that nation 
hoisted at the peak. 

“What is your intention, Jack?” said Gascoigne. 

“I’ll be hanged if I know yet. I think of working up 
to the outer roads, and anchoring at night — boarding the 
American vessels, and gaining intelligence.” 

“Not a bad idea; we shall then learn if there is any- 
thing to be done, and if not, we may be off at daylight.” 

“The pratique boat will not come off after sunset.” 

“And if they did, we could pass for an American, 
bound to Barcelona or anywhere else; the outer roads 
where the vessels lie are hardly within gun-shot.” 

Mesty, who had resumed his sailor’s clothes, now ob- 
served, “What we do, Massa Easy, we do quickly — time 
for all ting, time for show face and fight — time for hide 
face, crawl, and steal.” 

“ Very true, Mesty, we’ll crawl this time, and steal if 
we can. It’s not the warfare I like best of the two.” 

“Both good, Massa Easy; suppose you no steal board of 
polacca ship, you not see Missy Agnes.” 

“Very true, Mesty. ’Bout ship, Mr. Oxbelly.” 

“Mr. Oxbelly not good for boat sarvice,” observed 
Mesty, showing his teeth. 

It was dark before the Rebiera was anchored in the 
outer roads, a cable’s length astern of the outermost 
American vessel. One of her quarter boats was lowered 
down, and Gascoigne and our hero pulled alongside, and 
lying on their oars, hailed, and asked the name of the 
vessel. 

“So help me Gad, just now I forget her name,” replied 
a negro, looking over the gangway. 

“Who’s the captain?” 


MR . MIDSHIPMAN EAST, 


345 


“So help me Gad, he gone on shore.” 

“Is the mate on hoard?” 

“No, so help me Gad — he gone on shore, too.” 

“Who is aboard, then?” 

“So help me Gad, nobody on board but Pompey — and 
dat me.” 

“Good ship-keepers, at all events,” said Jack. “A ship 
in the outer roads with only a black fellow on board ! I 
say, Pompey, do they always leave you in charge of the 
Vessel?’ 

‘‘No, sar; but to-night great pleasure on shore. Ebery- 
body dance and sing, get drunk, kick up bobbery, and all 
dat. 

“What, is it a festival?” 

“So help me Gad, I no know, sar.” 

“Is there any one on board of the other vessels?” 

“Eberybody gone shore. Suppose they have black 
man, he stay on board.” 

“Good-night, Pompey.” 

“Good-night, sar. Who I say call when captain come 
on board?” 

“Captain Easy.” 

“Captain He-see, very well, sar.” 

Our hero pulled to another ship, and found it equally 
deserted ; but at the third he found the second mate, with 
his arm in a sling, and from him they gained the informa- 
tion that it was a great festival, being the last day of the 
carnival ; and that every one was thinking of nothing but 
amusement. 

“I’ve a notion,” said the mate, in reply, “that you’re 
American.” 

“You’ve guessed right,” replied Jack. 

“What si " 1 m what port?” 



n 


Susan and Mary,” replied Gas- 


Rhode 


coigne. 


“I thought you were north. We’re of New York. 
What news do you bring?” 

“Nothing,” replied he, “we are from Liverpool last.” 

A succession of questions was now put by the American 
mate, and answered very skillfully by Gascoigne, who then 
inquired how the market was. It was necessary to make 
and reply to all these inquiries before they could ask 
apparently indifferent questions of American traders j at 
last Gascoigne inquired: 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


£46 


“Ho you think they would allow us to go on shore? The 
le boat has not been on board.’ ’ 



“They’ll never find you out if you are off before day- 
light; I doubt if they know that you are anchored. Be- 
sides, from Liverpool you would have a clean bill of 
health, and if they found it out they would not say much; 
they’re not over-particular, I’ve a notion.” 

“What are those vessels lying in-shore?” 

“I guess they have olive oil on board, the chief on ’em. 
But there are two double lateens come in from Valparaiso 
the day before yesterday, with hides and copper. How 
they ’scaped the British I can’t tell, but they did, that’s 
sure enough.” 

“Good-night, then.” 

“You won’t take a glass of sling this fine night, with 
a countryman?” 

“To-morrow, my good fellow, to-morrow; we must go 
on shore now.” 

Our hero and Gascoigne returned on board the Rebiera, 
consulted with Oxbelly and Mesty, and then manned and 
armed the two quarter and stern boats. They thought it 
advisable not to hoist out their long-boat; no firearms 
were permitted to be taken, lest going off by accident or 
otherwise, an alarm should be given. Our hero and 
Mesty proceeded in the first boat, and pulled in for the 
town; Gascoigne, shortly after, in the second, and the 
boatswain in the jolly-boat followed at some distance. 

There was no notice taken of them ; they pulled gently 
down to the landing-place, which was deserted. There 
was a blaze of light, and the sounds of revelry in every 
quarter on shore; but the vessels appeared equally de- 
serted as the American ones in the offing. 

Finding themselves unobserved, for they had taken the 
precaution to pull only two oars in each boat, they dropped 
gently alongside of one of the double-masted lateen ves- 
sels, and Mesty stepped on board. He peeped down in 
the cabin, and perceived a man lying on the lockers; he 
came up in his stealthy manner, closed the hatch softly, 
and said, “All right.” Jack left Gascoigne^ to take out 
this vessel, which he did very sucessfully, for it was very 
dark; and although there were sentries posted not far off, 
their eyes and ears were turned toward the town listening 
to the music. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


347 


A second vessel, her consort, was boarded in the same 
way, but here they found a man on deck, whom they 
were obliged to seize and gag. They put him down in 
the cabin, and Mesty, with another boat’s crew, cut her 
cables and swept -her gently out toward the American 
vessels. One more vessel was required, and Jack, pulling 
two oars as usual, saluted a galliot heavily laden, but of 
what her cargo consisted was not known. In this vessel 
they found two men in the cabin playing cards, whom they 
seized and bound, and cutting her cables, were obliged to 
make sail upon her, as she was much too large to sweep 
out.. As they were making sail they, however, met with 
an interruption which they did not expect. The crew 
belonging to the vessel having had enough amusement for 
the evening, and intending to sail the next morning, had 
thought it right to come off sooner than the others; it was 
then about midnight or a little later, and while some of 
Jack’s men were aloft, for he had six with him, Jack, to 
his annoyance, heard a boat coming olf from the shore, 
the men in her singing a chorus. The galliot was at 
that time just under steerage way, her topsails had been 
loosed and her jib hoisted, but the former had not been 
sheeted home, for the three men below could not, in the 
dark, find the ropes. The other three men were on the 
foreyard loosing the foresail, and Jack was undetermined 
whether to call them down immediately or to allow them 
to loose the sail, and thus get good way on the vessel so as 
to prevent the boat, which was loaded with men, from 
overtaking them. The boat was not more than twenty 
yards from the galliot, when not finding her where they 
left her, they pulled to the right, and lay on their oars. 
This gave a moment of time, but they very soon spied her 
out. “Carambo!” was the exclamation — and the head of 
the boat was pulled round. 

“Down, my lads, in a moment by the swifters,” cried 
Jack. “Here’s a boat on board of us.” 

The men were in a few seconds on deck, and the others, 
who had now sheeted home the topsail, hastened aft. 
The vessel soon gathered way, but before that her way was 
sufficient, the boat had pulled under the counter, and the 
Spaniards, letting their oars swing fore and aft, were 
climbing up, their knives in their teeth. A scuffle 
ensued, and they were thrown down again, but they re- 


348 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


newed their attempt. Our hero, perceiving a small water 
or wine cask lashed to the gunwale, cut it loose with his 
cutlass, and with one of the men, who was by his side, 
pushed it over and dropped it into the boat. It struck 
the gunwale, stove a plank, and the boat began to fill 
rapidly; in the mean time the galliot had gained way — 
the boat could not longer be held on, from its weight, and 
dropped astern with the men in it. Those who were half 
in and half out were left clinging to the gunwale of the 
vessel, and, as they climbed up, were secured, and put 
down in the cabin. Fortunately, no firearms having 
been used on either side, the alarm was not given gen- 
erally, but the sentry reported fighting on board one of 
the vessels, and the people of the guard-boat were col- 
lected, and pulled out; but they only arrived in time to 
see that the galliot was under weigh, and that the two 
other vessels from Valparaiso were not in their berths. 

They hastened on shore, gave the alarm ; the gun-boats, 
of which there were three at the mole, were ordered out, 
but half the crew and all the officers were on shore, some 
at balls, others drinking at taverns or posadas ; before 
they could be collected all three vessels were alongside of 
the Rebiera; and not aware that anything had been dis- 
covered, our hero and his crew were lulled in security. 
Jack had gone on board, leaving fourteen of his men on 
board the galliot — Gascoigne had done the same — Mesty 
still remained on board his vessel ; and they were con- 
gratulating themselves and ordering the men on board to 
the windlass, when they heard the sound of oars. 

“Silence! — what is that?” exclaimed Oxbelly. “The 
gun-boats or row-boats, as sure as I’m alive!” 

At this moment Mesty jumped up the side. 

“Massa Easy, I hear row-boat not far off.” 

“So do we, Mesty. Gascoigne, jump into the boat — 
tell the men in the prizes to make all sail right out, and 
leave us to defend their retreat — stay on board of one and 
divide your men.” 

“Hat all right, Massa Easy— Mr. Gascoigne, be smart 
— and now, sar, cut cable and make sail; no time to get 
up anchor.” 

This order was given, but although the men were aloft 
in a moment, and very expeditious, as the Rebiera payed 
her head round and the jib was hoisted, they could per- 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


349 


ceive the boom of the three gun-boats pulling and sailing 
not five cables’ lengths from them. Although rather 
short-handed, topsails, courses, and topgallant-sails were 
soon set, the men down to their quarters, and the guns 
cast loose, before the gun-boats were close under their 
. stern. Then Jack rounded-to, braced up, and the Rebiera 
stood across them to the westward. 

“Why the devil don’t they fire?” said Jack. 

“I tink because they no ab powder,” said Mesty. 

Mesty was right — the ammunition chests of the gun- 
boats were always landed when they were at the mole, in 
case of accidents, which might arise from the crew being 
continually with cigars in their mouths, and in the hurry 
they had quite forgotten to put them on board. 

“At all events, we have powder,” said Jack, “and now 
we’ll prove it. Grape and canister, my lads, and take 
good aim.” 

The commanders of the gun-boats had hailed each 
other, and agreed to board the Rebiera, but she now had 
good way on her, and sailed faster than they pulled. A 
well-directed broadside astonished them — they had no 
idea of her force; and the execution done was so great 
that they first lay on their oars, and then pulled back to 
the mole with all speed, leaving the Rebiera in quiet 
possession of her prizes, which had already gained two 
miles in the offing. 

The Rebiera, as soon as Jack perceived that the gun- 
boats had retreated, was put before the wind, and soon 
closed with her captures, when she was hove-to till day- 
light with the three vessels in company. Gascoigne re- 
turned on board, prize-masters were selected, and Jack 
determined to keep them all with him, and take them to 
Palermo. 


CHAPTER XL. 

IN WHICH THERE IS ANOTHER SLIGHT DIFFERENCE OF 
OPINION BETWEEN THOSE WHO SHOULD BE FRIENDS. 

The two lateen vessels proved of considerable value, 
being laden with copper, hides, and cochineal. The 
galliot was laden with sweet oil, and was also no despica- 


350 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


ble prize. At daylight they were all ready, and, to the 
mortification of the good people of Malaga, sailed away to 
the eastward without interruption. 

“Me tink we do dat job pretty well, Massa Easy,” ob- 
served Mesty as he laid the breakfast-table. 

“Nothing like trying,” replied Gascoigne; “I’m sure 
when we stood into the bay I would have sold all my prize- 
money for a doubloon. How do I share, Jack?” 

“Only as one of the crew, Ned, for you are a super- 
numerary, and our articles and agreement for prize-money 
were signed previous to our sailing.” 

“I ought to share with Mr. Oxbelly’s class, by rights,” 
replied Gascoigne. 

“That would be to take half my prize-money away. I 
shall want it all, Mr. Gascoigne, to pacify my wife for 
giving her the slip.” 

“Ah, very well; I’ll get all I can.” 

For ten days they ran down the coast, going much too 
fast for the wishes of the crew, who were anxious to make 
more money. They seized a fishing-boat and put on 
board of her the four prisoners which they had found in 
the vessels, and arrived off Barcelona, without falling in 
with friend or foe. The next morning, the wind being 
very light, they discovered a large vessel at daylight astern 
of them to the westward, and soon made her out to be a 
frigate. She made all sail in chase, but that gave them 
very little uneasiness, as they felt assured that she was a 
British cruiser. One fear, however, came over them, 
that she would, if she came up with them, impress a por- 
tion of their men. 

“As certain as I’m here, and Mrs. Oxbelly’s at South- 
sea,” said Oxbelly, “they’ll take some of the men — the 
more so as, supposing us to be a Spanish convoy, they will 
be disappointed.” 

“They will hardly take them out of the prizes,” ob- 
served Easy. 

“I don’t know that; men must be had for his majesty’s 
service somehow. It’s not their fault, Mr. Easy— the 
navy must be manned, and as things are so, so things must 
be. It’s the king’s prerogative, Mr. Easy, and we can- 
not fight the battles of the country without it.” 

“Yes,” replied Gascoigne, “and although, as soon as 
the services of seamen are no longer wanted, you find that 


351 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 

thare are demagogues on shore who exclaim against im- 
pressment, they are quiet enough on the point when they 
know that their lives and property depend upon sailors’ 
exertions.” 

“Very true, Mr. Gascoigne, hut it’s not our fault if we 
are obliged to take men by force, it’s the fault of those 
who do not legislate so as to prevent the necessity. Mrs. 
Oxbelly used to say that she would easily manage the 
matter if she were chancellor of the exchequer.” 

“I dare say Mrs. Oxbelly would make a very good chan- 
cellor of the exchequer,” replied Gascoigne, smiling: “one 
thing is certain, that if they gave the subject half the 
consideration they have others of less magnitude, an 
arrangement might he made by which his majesty’s navy 
would never be short of men.” 

“No doubt, no doubt, Mr. Gascoigne; hut nevertheless, 
the king’s prerogative must never be given up.” 

“There I agree with you, Mr. Oxbelly; it must be held 
in case of /Sudden emergency and absolute need.” 

“"VVe’11 argue that point by and by,” replied Jack; 
“now let us consult as to our measures. My opinion is, 
that if I made more sail we should beat the frigate, but 
she would come up with the prizes.” 

“That’s the best thing we can do, Mr. Easy; but let us 
send a boat on board of them, and take out all the men 
that can possibly be spared, that there may be no excuse 
for impressing them.” 

“Yes,” replied Gascoigne; “and as the wind is falling 
it is possible it may fall calm, and they may send their 
boats; suppose we separate a mile or two from each 
other.” 

“Dat very good advice, Massa Gascoigne,” observed 
Mesty. 

This plan was acted upon, only three men were left in 
the lateens, and four in the galliot, and the vessels, in 
obedience to the orders, sheered off on both sides of ^ the 
Rebiera, who made all sail and started ahead of the prizes. 
This maneuver was perceived on board of the frigate, and 
made them sure that it was a Spanish convoy attempting 
to escape. The fire-engine was got on deck, sails wetted, 
and every exertion made to come up. But about four 
o’clock in the afternoon, when the frigate was eight or 
nin e miles off, it fell calm, as Gascoigne had predicted, 


352 


MR MIDSRIPMAN EAST. 


and the heads of all the vessels, as well as the frigate, 
were now round the compass. 

“There’s out boats,” said Mr. Oxbelly; “they will have 
a long pull, and all for nothing.” 

“How savage they will be!” observed Gascoigne. 

“Never mind that,” replied Jack; “Mesty says that 
dinner is ready.” 

After dinner, they all went on deck, and found that the 
boats had separated, one pulling for each of the prizes, 
and two for the Rebiera. In less than an hour, they 
would probably be alongside. 

“And now let us decide how we are to act. We must 
not resist, if they attempt to impress the men?” 

N “I’vebeen thinking upon that matter, Mr. Easy, and it 
appears to me that the men must be permitted to act as 
they please, and that we must be neuter. I, as a lieu- 
tenant in his majesty’s service, cannot of course act, 
neither can Mr. Gascoigne. You are not in the service, but 
I should recommend you to do the same. That the men 
have a right to resist, if possible, is admitted ; they always 
do so, and never are punished for so doing. Under the 
guns of the frigate, of course we should only have to sub- 
mit; but those two boats do not contain more than twenty- 
five men, I should think, and our men are the stronger 
party. We had better leave it to them, and stand neuter.” 

“Dat very good advice,” said Mesty; “leab it to us;” 
and Mesty walked away forward where the seamen were 
already in consultation. 

Jack also agreed to the prudence of this measure, and 
he perceived that the seamen, after a consultation with 
Mesty, were all arming themselves for resistance. 

The boats were now close on board, and English colors 
were hoisted at the gaff. This did not, however, check, 
the impetus of the boats, who, with their ensigns trailing* 
in the still water astern of them, dashed alongside, and 
an officer leaped on board, cutlass in hand, followed by 
the seamen of the frigate. The men of the Rebiera re- 
mained collected forward — Easy, Gascoigne, and Oxbelly 
aft. 

“What vessel is this?” cried the lieutenant who com- 
manded the boats. 

Jack, with the greatest politeness, took off his hat, and 
told him that it was the Rebiera, letter of marque, and 
that the papers were ready for his inspection. 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


353 


'‘And the other vessels ?” 

“Prizes to the Rebiera, cut out of Malaga Bay,” replied 
Jack. 

“Then you are a privateer/’ observed the disappointed 
officer. “Where are your papers?” 

“Mr. Oxbelly, oblige me by bringing them up,” said 
Jack. 

“Fat Jack of the bone-house,” observed the lieutenant, 
looking at Oxbelly. 

“A lieutenant in his majesty’s service, of longer stand- 
ing than yourself, young man,” replied Oxbelly firmly; 
“and who, if he ever meets you in any other situation, will 
make you answer for your insolent remark.” 

“Indeed!” observed the lieutenant ironically; “now, 
if you had said you were once a boatswain or a gunner.” 

“Consider yourself kicked,” roared Oxbelly, losing his 
temper. 

“Hey day! why, you old porpoise!” 

“Sir,” observed Jack, who listened with indignation, 
“Mr. Oxbelly is a lieutenant in his majesty’s service; and 
you have no right to insult him, even if he were not.” 

“I presume you are all officers,” replied the lieutenant. 

“I am, sir,” retorted Gascoigne, “an officer in his 
majesty’s service, and on board of this vessel by permis- 
sion of Captain Sawbridge, of the Latona.” 

“And I was, until a few months ago, sir,” continued 
Jack; “at present I am captain and owner of this vessel — 
but here are the papers. You will have no obstruction from 
us in the execution of your duty — at the same time, I call 
upon the two young gentlemen by your side, and your 
own men, to bear witness to what takes place.” 

“Oh, very well, sir — just as you please. Your papers, 
I perceive, are all right. Now you will oblige me by 
mustering your men.” 

“Certainly, sir,” replied Jack; “send all the men aft 
to muster, Mr. Oxbelly.” 

The men came aft to the mainmast, with Mesty at their 
head, and answered to their names. As the men passed 
over, the lieutenant made a pencil-mark against ten of 
them, who appeared the finest seamen; and, when the roll 
had been called, he ordered those men to get their bags 
and go into the boat. 

“&ir, as you must observe, I am short-handed; with my 


&54 * MR- MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 

men away in prizes; and I, as commander of this vessel, 
protest against this proceeding; if you insist upon taking 
them, of course I can do nothing, ” observed Jack. 

“I do insist, sir; Fm not going on board empty-handed, 
at all events.” 

“Well, sir, I can say no more,” said Jack, walking aft 
to the taffrail, to which Oxbelly and Gascoigne had re- 
treated. 

“Come, my lads, get those men in the boat,” said the 
lieutenant. 

But the men had all retreated forward in a body, with 
Mesty at their head, and had armed themselves. Some of 
the seamen of the frigate had gone forward, in obedience 
to their officer, to lead the men selected into the boat; 
but they were immediately desired to keep back. The 
scuffle forward attracted the notice of the lieutenant, 
who immediately summoned all his men out of the boats. 

“Mutiny, by heavens! Come up, all of you, my lads.” 

Mesty then came forward, with a saber in one hand and 
a pistol in the other, and thus addressed the seamen of 
the frigate: 

“I tell you dis, my lads — you not so strong as we — you 
not got better arms — we not under gun of frigate now, 
and ab determination not to go board. ’Pose you want 
us, come take us — ’pose you can. By all de power, but 
we make mince-meat of you, anyhow.” 

The seamen paused — they were ready to fight for their 
country, but not to be killed by, or kill, those who were 
their own countrymen, and who were doing exactly what 
they would have done themselves. The lieutenant 
thought otherwise; he was exasperated at this sensation. 

“You black scoundrel, I left you out because I thought 
you not worth having, but now I’ll add you to the 
number.” 

“Stop a little,” replied Mesty. 

The lieutenant would not take the Ashantee’s very 
prudent advice ; he flew forward to seize Mesty, who, strik- 
ing him a blow with the flat of his saber, almost leveled 
him to the deck. At this the men and other officers of 
the frigate darted forward; but after a short scuffle, in 
which a few wounds were received, were beaten back into 
the boats. The lieutenant was thrown in after them by 
the nervous arm of Mesty — and, assailed by cold shot and 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


355 


other missiles, they sheered off with precipitation, and 
polled back in the direction of the frigate. 

“There will be a row about this,” said Oxbelly, “as 
soon as they come clear of the vessel. If the frigate gets 
hold of us she will show us no mercy. There is a breeze 
coming from the northwest. How fortunate ! we shall be 
three leagues to windward, and may escape.” 

“I doubt if she could catch us at any point of sailing; 
they may come up with the prizes, but can do nothing 
with them.” 

“No, the boats which boarded them are already re- 
turned to the frigate; she must wait for them, and that 
will give us a start, and it will be night before they can 
even make sail.” 

“Fire a gun for the prizes to close,” said Jack; “we 
will put the men on board again, and then be off to 
Palermo as fast as we can.” 

“We can do no better,” said Oxbelly. “If ever I 
chance to meet that fellow again, I will trouble him to 
repeat his words. Trim the sails, my lads.” 

“His language was unpardonable,” observed Jack. 

“Since I’ve been in the service, Mr. Easy, I have 
always observed that some officers appear to imagine that 
because they are under the king’s pennant, they are 
warranted in insulting and tyrannizing over all those who 
have not the honor to hoist it; whereas the very fact of 
their being king’s officers should be an inducement to 
them to show an example of courtesy and gentlemanly con- 
duct in the execution of their duty, however unpleasant it 
may be.” 

“It is only those who, insignificant themselves, want to 
make themselves of importance, by the pennant they serve 
under,” replied our hero. 

“Very true, Mr. Easy; but you are not aware that a 
great part of the ill-will shown to the service is owing to 
the insolence of those young men in office. The king’s 
name is a warrant for every species of tyranny and un- 
warrantable conduct. I remember Mrs. Oxbelly telling 
one of them, when ” 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Oxbelly,” interrupted Jack, 
“but we have no time to chat now; the breeze is coming 
down fast, and I perceive the prizes are closing. Let us 
lower down the boat, send the men on board again, and 


356 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


give them their orders — which I will do in writing, in 
case they part company.” 

“Very true, sir. It will be dark in half an hour, and 
as we are now standing in shore, they will think that we 
intend to remain on the coast. As soon as it is quite dark 
we will shape our course for Palermo. I will go down 
and look at the chart.” 


CHAPTER XLI. 

WHICH WINDS UP THE NAUTICAL ADVENTURES OF MR. 

MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 

In half an hour the prizes were again alongside, the 
men put on board, and the boat hoisted up. The frigate 
still remained becalmed to leeward, and hoisted in her 
boats. They watched until she was hid by the shades of 
night, and then wearing round stood away, with the wind 
two points free, for the coast of Sicily. The next morn- 
ing when the sun rose there was nothing in sight. Strange 
anomaly, in a state of high civilization, where you find 
your own countrymen avoided and more dreaded than 
even your foes ! 

The run was prosperous, the weather was fine, and the 
prizes did not part company. 

On the sixteenth day the Rebiera and her convoy an- 
chored in Palermo Bay. The wind was light in the morn- 
ing that they stood in, and as Jack had a large blue flag 
with Rebiera in white letters hoisted at the main, Don 
Philip and Don Martin were on board and greeting our 
hero, before the Rebiera’s anchor had plunged into the 
clear blue water. 

The information which our hero received, after having 
been assured of the health of Agnes and her parents, was 
satisfactory. The disappearance of the friar had, at first, 
occasioned much surprise; but as the servants of Don 
Rebiera swore to his return without the black, and the 
letter of Don Rebiera, sent to the convent, requesting his 
presence, was opened and read, there *was no suspicion 
against the family. A hundred conjectures had been 


MU. MIDSHIPMAN HAST. 


afloat, but gradually they had subsided, and it was at last 
supposed that he had been carried off by the banditti, 
some of whom had been taken, and acknowledged that 
they had seized a friar on a day which they could not rec- 
ollect. The reader will remember that it was Mesty. 

The Rebiera received pratique, and Jack hastened on 
shore with Don Philip and his brother, and was once more 
in company of Agnes, who, in our hero’s opinion, had 
improved since his departure. Most young men in love 
think the' same after an absence, provided it is not too 
long. The prizes were sold and the money distributed, 
and every man was satisfied, as the cargoes fetched a 
larger sum than they had anticipated. 

We must pass over the pros and cons of Don Rebiera 
and his lady, the pleading of Jack for immediate nuptials, 
the unwillingness of the mother to part with her only 
daughter, the family consultation, the dowry, and all 
these particulars. A month after his arrival Jack was 
married, and was, of course, as happy as the day was 
long. 

A few days afterward, Mr. Oxbelly advised departure, 
as the expenses of the vessel were heavy, and it was his 
duty so to do. Don Philip and Don Martin obtained 
leave to go to England with their sister and her husband. 
Nevertheless, Jack, who found Palermo a very pleasant 
residence, was persuaded by the don and his wife to re- 
main there a month, and then there was crying, and sob- 
bing, and embracing, and embarking, and at last the 
Rebiera, whose cabins had been arranged for the reception 
of the party, weighed and made sail for Malta, Jack hav- 
ing promised to call upon the governor. 

In four days they anchored in Yalette harbor, and 
Jack paid his respects to his old friend, who was very glad 
to see him. The governor sent his own barge for Mrs. 
Easy, and she was installed in the state apartments, which 
were acknowledged to be very comfortable. Our hero 
had, as usual, a long story to tell the governor, and the 
governor listened to it very attentively, probably because 
he thought it would be the last, which opportunity Jack 
employed to narrate the unfortunate end ©f his father. 

“I would not have said so at the time, Mr. Easy, but 
now the wound is healed, I tell you that it is the best 


358 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EAST. 


thing that could have happened — poor old gentleman ! he 
was mad, indeed.” 

Our hero remained a fortnight at Malta, and then Sign- 
ora Easy was reembarked, and once more the Rebiera, 
made sail. 

“Fare you well, my lady; what I have seen of your 
brothers-in-law pleased me much, and as for your wife, 
it will be your own fault if she is not all that you would 
wish. If ever I come to England again, I will pay my 
first visit to Forest Hill. God bless you !” 

But Sir Thomas never did go back to England, and this 
was their final adieu. Once more the Rebiera pursued 
her course, stopped a day or two at Gibraltar, shared the 
proceeds of the captured gun-boat, and then made sail for 
England, where she arrived without adventure or accident 
in three weeks. 

Thus ended the last cruise of Mr. Midshipman Easy. 
As soon as their quarantine at the Motherbank was over, 
they disembarked, and found Dr. Middleton and Mr. 
Hanson waiting for them at the George Hotel. Our hero 
had scarcely time to introduce his wife, when the waiter 
said that a lady wished to speak to him. She did not 
wait to know if Jack was visible, but forced her way past 
him. Jack looked at her large proportions, and decided 
at once that it must be Mrs. Oxbelly, in which conjec- 
ture he was right. 

“Pray, sir, what do you mean by carrying off my hus- 
band in that way?” exclaimed the lady, red with anger. 

“God forbid that I should have to carry your husband, 
Mrs. Oxbelly; he is rather too heavy.” 

“Yes, sir, but it's little better than kidnaping, and 
there’s a law for kidnaping children, at all events. I 
shall send my lawyer to you, that you may depend 
upon.” 

“You hardly can consider your husband as a child, Mrs. 
Oxbelly,” replied Jack, laughing. 

“Very well, sir, we shall see. Pray where is he now?” 

“He is on board, Mrs. Oxbelly, and will be delighted to 
see you.” 

“Pm not quite so sure of that.” 

“He’s very anxious to see little Billy,” said Gascoigne. 

“What do you know of little Billy, young man?” 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASY. 


352 

“And more than anxious to be on shore again. He’s 
quite tired of sleeping single, Mr?. Oxbelly.” 

“Ah, very well, he has been talking, has he? Very 
well!” exclaimed the lady in a rage. 

“But,” said Easy, “I am happy to say, that with pay 
and prize-money, during his short absence, he has brought 
home nearly five hundred pounds.” 

“Five hundred pounds! — you don’t say so, sir?” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Oxbelly; “are you sure of that?” 

“Quite sure,” rejoined Gascoigne. 

“Five hundred pounds !— well, that is comfortable — 
dear me; how glad I shall be to see him! Well, Mr. 
Easy, it was hard to part with him in so unhandsome a 
way — but all’s for the best in this world. What a dear, 
nice lady your wife is, Mr. Easy — but I won’t intrude — 
I beg pardon. Where is the brig, Mr. Easy?” 

“Now comifig into harbor,” replied Gascoigne; “if you 
bargain you can get off for twopence.” 

“Five hundred pounds!” exclaimed Mrs. Oxbelly, 
whose wrath was now appeased. 

“By all power, she no fool or a woman dat,” said Mesty, 
as she retreated, courtesying. “I tink Mr. Oxbelly very 
right sleep tingle.” 

We have now come to the end of our hero’s adventures; 
that afternoon they all started for Forest Hill, where 
everything was ready for their reception. The Rebiera’s 
men were paid off, and were soon distributed on board of 
his majesty’s ships; the vessel was sold, and Mr. Oxbelly 
retired to Southsea, to the society of his wife and little 
Billy. Whether he obtained from his wife a divorce de 
tlioro is not handed down. 

Our hero, who was now of age, invited all within twenty 
miles of home to balls and dinners; became a great fa- 
vorite, kept a pack of hounds, rode with the foremost, re- 
ceived a deputation to stand for the county, on the 
Conservative interest, was elected without much expense, 
which was very wonderful, and took his seat in Parlia- 
ment. Don Philip and Don Martin, after two months’ 
stay, took their passage back to Palermo, fully satisfied 
with the prospects of their sister as to competence and 
happiness. Jack had no occasion to argue the point with 
Agnes; she conformed at once to the religion of her hus^ 
band, proved an excellent and affectionate wife, and 


MR. MIDSHIPMAN EASf. 


Sco 

eventually the mother of four children, three boys and a 
girl. 

Mesty held his post with dignity, and proved himself 
trustworthy. Gascoigne, by the interest of the Conserva- 
tive member, soon obtained the rank of post-captain, and 
was always his devoted and sincere friend. And thur 
ends the history of Mr. Midshipman Easy. 


THE END. 


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Book of Golden Deeds. By Charlotte 
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Boone, Daniel, Life of. By Cecil B. 
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Bride of Lammermoor. By Sir Walter 
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Browning’s Poems. (Elizabeth.) 

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Bryant’s Poems. W. C. Bryant. 

Burgomasters’ Wife. George Ebers. 

Burns’ Poems. By Robert Burns. 

By Order of the King. By Hugo. 

Byron’s Poems. By Lord Byron. 

Caesar, Julius, Life of. By Jame9 
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Carson, Kit, Life of. By Charles 
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Cary’s Poems. (Alice and Phoebe.) 

Cast Up by the Sea. Sir S. Baker. 

Charles Auchester. By E. Berger. 

Character. By Samuel Smiles. 

Charlemagne (Charles the Great), 
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Charles O’Malley. By Charles Lever, 

Chesterfield’s Letters. By Lord 
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Chevalier de Maison Rouge. By Al- 
exander Dumas. 

Children of the Abbey. By Regina 
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Chicot the Jester. By Alex. Dumas. 

Child’s History of England. By 
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Christmas Stories. Charles Dickens. 

Cloister and the Hearth. By Charles 
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Coleridge’s Poems. By S. T. Cole- 
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Columbus, Christopher, Life of. By 
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Companions of Jehu, The. Dumas. 

Complete Angler. Walton & Cotton. 

Conduct of Life. R. W. Emerson. 

Confessions of an Opium Eater. By 
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Conquest of Granada. By Washing- 
ton Irving. 

Conquest of Mexico, Vol. I. By 
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Conquest of Mexico. Vol. II. By 
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Conquest of Peru. Vol. I. By Wm- ' 
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Conquest of Peru. Vol. II. By Wm. 
H. Prescott. 

Conspiracy of Pontiac. By Francis 
Parkman, Jr. 

Conspirators, The. Dumas. 

Consuelo. By George Sand. 

Cook’s Voyages. Captain James Cook. 

Corinne. By Madame de Stael 

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Countess de Charney. Alex Dumas. 
Countess of Rudolstadt. Geo. Sand. 
Country Doctor. By H. de Balzac. 
Courtship of Miles Standish. By HT 
^ W. Longfellow. 

Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell. 

Crockett, David. An autobiography. 
Cromwell, Oliver, Life of. By Edwin 
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Crusades, The. By George W. Cox. 
^Daniel Deronda. By George Eliot.-''' 
Data of Ethics. By Herbert Spencer. 
Daughter of an Empress. By Louisa 
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^ David Copperfield. Charles Dickens. 
Days of Bruce. By Grace Aguilar. 
Deemster, The. By Hall /Caine. 
^/Deerslayer, The. By J. F. Cooper. 
Descent of Man. By Charles Darwin. 
Discourses of Epictetus. 

Divine Comedy, The. (Dante.) 
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Donal Grant. George Macdonald. 
Donovan. By Edna Lyall. 

Dove in the Eaglet Nest. By Char- 
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^ Dream Life. By Ik Marvel. 

^ Dr. Jekyll and Mr. H> r de. By R. L. 
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Duty. By Samuel Smiled , 

East Lynne. By Mrs. HenJ'y Wood. 
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Eight Hundred Leagues on the Ama- 
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Eliot’s Poems. By George Eliot. / 
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Elsie Venner. By O. W. Holmes. 
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Essays in Criticism. Matthew Arnold. 
Essays of Elia. By Charles Lamb. 
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Fairly Land of Science. By Arabella 
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Felix Holt. By George Eliot. 

Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World. 
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For Lilias. By Rosa N. Carey. 
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Frederick the Great and His Court. 

By Louisa Muhlback. 

Frederick, the Great, Life of. By 

Francis Kugler. 

French Revolution. Thomas Carlyle. 
From the Earth to the Moon. By 
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Garibaldi, General, Life of. By Theo- 
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Gil Bias. A. R. Le Sage. 

Gold Bug, The. Edgar A. Poe. 

Gold Elsie. By E. MarKtt. 

Golden Treasury. By T. Palgrave. 
Goldsmith’s Poems. 

Grandfather’s Chair. By Nathaniel 
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Grant, Ulysses S., Life of. By J. 
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Gray’s Poems. Thomas Gray. 

--Great Expectations. Charles Dickens. 
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Green Mountain Boys, The. By D. 

P. Thompson. 

Grimm’s Household Tales. 

Grimm’s Popular Tales. 

Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 

' Guy Mannering. Sir Walter Scott. 
Hale, Nathan, the Martryr Spy. By 
Charlotte M. Holloway. 

Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 
Hannibal, the Carthaginian, Life o^" 
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Hardy Norseman. By Edna Lyall. 
Harold. By Bulwer-Lytton. 

Harry Lorrequer. Charles Lever. 
Heart of Midlothian. By Sir Walter 
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^Hiawatha. By H. W. Longfellow. 
Hidden Hand. By Mrs. Southworth. 
History of Crime. Victor Hugo. 
History of Civilization in Europe^ 
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History of Our Own Times. Vol. I. 

By Justin McCarthy. v 

History of Our Own Times. Vcfl. 

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Holmes’ Poems. By O. W. Holmes. 
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Homo Sum. By George Ebers. 
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^-Hunchback of Notre Dame. By Victor 
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Hypatia. By Charles Kingsley. 


Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow. By 
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Iliad, The. Pope’s Translation. 

Inez. By Augusta J. Evans. 

Ingelow’s Poems. Jean Ingelow. 

Intellectual Life. G. Hamerton. 

In the Golden Days. Edna Lyall. y 

Ishmael. By Mrs. Southworth. 

It Is Never Too Late to Mend. By" 1 
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Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott. 

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Joseph Balsamo. By Alex. Dumas. 

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Keats’ Poems. By John Keats. 
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Last Days of Pompeii. By Bulwer- 
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Les Miserables. Vol. II. By Vic- 
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Life of Christ. By F. W. Farrar. 

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Light of Asia. Sir Edwin Arnold. 


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Livingstone, David. Life of. By 
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Lorna Doone. R. D. Blackmore. 

Louise de la Valliere. Alex. 
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Lowell’s Poems. J. Rusell Lowell. 

Lucile. By Owen Meredith. 

Macaria. Augusta J. Evans. 

Macauley’s Literary Essays. Bn 
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Magic Skin. Honore de Balzac. 

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Marmion. By Sir Walter Scott. 

Marquis of Lossie. Geo. Mac- 
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Mary, Queen of Shots, Life off 
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Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. 

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Murders in the Rue Morgue. 

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Old Mam’selle’s Secret. By E. 
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Old Mortality. Sir Walter Scott. 
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Philip II. of Spain, Life of. By 
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Pickwick Papers. Charles Dickens. 
Pilgrim’s Progress. John Bunyan. 
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Plato’s Dialogues. 

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Put Yourself in His Place. Charles 
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Queenie’s Whim. Rosa N. Carey. 
Queen’s Necklace. Alex. Dumas. 
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Rasselas. Samuel Johnson. / 

x Redgauntlet. Sir Walter Scott. 

Red Rover. By James F. Cooper. 
Regent’s Daughter. By Alex. Dumas. 
Representative Men. R. W. Emerson. 
Republic of Plato. 

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Rob Roy. Sir Walter Scott. 

Romance of Two Worlds. By 
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Romola. By George Eliot. 

Rory O’Moore. Samuel Lover. 
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Second Wife. The. E. Marlitt. 
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Sentimental Journey. Laurence 
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St. Ronan’s Well. Walter Scott. 

Study in Scarlet. A. Conan Doyle. 

Surgeon’s Daughter, The. By Sir 
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